woodsprite's profile

woodsprite avatar
AGE: 35
LOC: Dingmans Ferry, PA
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: November 21

The unexpected flash of tangerine upon turning a country corner in the Fall. The sounds of a loved one by your side upon waking. Deer bedding down below your window at night. Sunlight warming air and grass, making you beg for more before the chill of November. The pungent essence of an unexpected flavor filling your palate during a meal by yourself. We all experience similar things every day. But that doesn’t mean that we really take them in and savor them. Appreciate them. It’s about time we do. For more on me and what I’m writing go to my blog at:

www.excavatingthepoetwithin.blogspot.com

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Poetry / Summer Storm
Version 1
1 Review   0 Comments
Like a sumo wrestler, it encroaches upon the house. Thumps of thunder interspersed by quiet. Too close flashes of electricity sizzle through the trees as the next whomp of a footfall approaches. Forceful gusts enter through the back porch to escape through the squeaking front door. The shotgun-straight path funnels air quickly and rattles screens in and out with each push onward. Behind the house, over the small lake of the backyard you feel, hear the power of gathering wind. It races up t...
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Poetry / Bathing in Glaciers
Version 1
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Among these razor sharp peaks rugged miles lay behind me. Dappled in trees valleys undulate with the land. Trails stitch together this landscape fractured by streams, rivers, lakes teeming with life. Surrounded by water, stone, tough vegetation petite petals spring forth. Nature has worked all spring for this instant. Worked to produce this impermanent moment of attraction. I am attracted. The bee is attracted. Among these razor sharp peaks lay the soft cushion of mosses. Hiding in f...
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Poetry / Pickup Sticks
Version 1
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A cruel game of pick-up sticks cover mountainsides. The aftermath of a logging culture patchworks Pacific Northwest hillsides and mountains. Creates bald spots no one even tries to hide. Evergreen spires and snags- green and brown in high-noon sunlight- can do nothing against the power of men with chainsaws, a logging truck or a helicopter. As if thrown by a greedy child’s hand bodies lie askew atop defiled ground. The thumps of vegetal flesh echo when stacked on trucks. I drive Cal...
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Poetry / Poetry
Version 1
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Words that create a moment. How delicious that moment beneath a thousand luscious languages left, to a gorgeous eternity.
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Poetry / Moving Forward
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Always approach the horizon as it never emerges. Don’t fight the prickles and stings of your journey. To search for the perfect blossom is to find perfection everywhere you look.
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Reviews
Poetry / A Familiar Foe
by Joel_Mitt
Locked
Poetry / Paddy Last
by Bosco
Hmmmmm, you sure made me think. The title made me want to believe that the writers ancestors were of Irish descent. But as I read further...I began to feel my own French and Italian heritage come through between the lines. Then at the end I began to understand that those images are a part of all of our ancestries. That is the power of good poetry...to get us thinking...to keep us reading then to get us to understand more about others and ourselves. This piece did just that. I loved it! ...Aft...
Poetry / Alleviation
by joonthespoon
Hey there! I'm back! And your work is as great as I remember. It's hard to critique your work because so much of it is pretty perfect. This one is just that until S10 and the lines "the trick, was to run fast enough" I actually think this piece is finished here. Something about the tone after this line changes dramatically. You loose the passion and over arching meaning after. As much as we want our work to be personal, after these lines, the content becomes too personal, if that makes sense?...
Flash Fiction / Summer Broke
by drbailey
Locked
Poetry / I'd Seduce Your Shadow (But It Wont Look My Way)
by mckinleycooper
You give yourself far too little credit. You are very eloquent with words and have a talent for choosing phrases and terminology that are natural for the reader to understand...without being simple or cliched. I'm a huge fan of poetry that is concise and has a flow that moves the eye and the heart fast down the page. This poem is now of that style...but I think that the line breaks need to be in different places to create dramatic pauses where punctuation would normally be. I think you wanted...
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