Anonymous
Anonymous asked in Arts & HumanitiesPoetry · 8 months ago

Can you rate my poem?

Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me;

Taking me back down the vista of years, till I see

A child sitting under the piano, in the boom of the tingling strings

And pressing the small, poised feet of a mother who smiles as she sings.

In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song

Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong

To the old Sunday evenings at home, with winter outside

And hymns in the cosy parlour, the tinkling piano our guide.

So now it is vain for the singer to burst into clamour

With the great black piano appassionato. The glamour

Of childish days is upon me, my manhood is cast

Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child for the past.

4 Answers

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  • Tina
    Lv 7
    8 months ago
    Favorite Answer

    It's by D H Lawrence.

  • Jay R
    Lv 7
    8 months ago

    Forced.

  • 8 months ago

    Off to a good start. It could use more subtlety I think, less telling of feelings and more showing of feelings.

    • Tina
      Lv 7
      8 months agoReport

      M'mmm. It's by D H Lawrence. Probably better known for his novels than his poetry, but still a much published poet.

  • Pearl
    Lv 7
    8 months ago

    i think its a good poern

    • Tina
      Lv 7
      8 months agoReport

      And by a good poet. D H Lawrence.

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