First Frost Poem by Pablo Cruise

First Frost

Rating: 4.8


Down the Northwest Angle cross the brow of the Boundary’s claim
The northern wanders with no less purpose, than what it brings
Toward the River Valley from off The Mighty Range
In days gone short of purpose, it’s time for premonitions and lore
Billows breathe against The River will spill like sugar onto these braided plains
Temperance fetched by that ol man to feed my fears, touch me thin
Invade my crooked fingers, down my listing spine, linger at my splintered toes
I know your name
I feel you steal inside my bed
It’s time to hang the plow, barn the roan while this land lodges under shrouds of crystalline
Reticent soil falling sound reduced to mere footing and passage
Rest yourself, my friend, while we all voice our disapproval
And remember your loam stocked green and yielding
Time to bar the door, seal the pane and pray we see no fever
Stoke the fire to dissuade that shutter and sing something soft
For the ink of night will bring First Frost, my dear
First Frost with morning light

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
LOVEFOOL Aka 16 March 2009

Warming and sensual great write 10+

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Jim Norausky 16 March 2009

I enjoyed reading this poem, good imagery. Jim

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Carl Harris 16 March 2009

Other than feeling that this poem is about the coming of winter, I am left standing outside once again, Pablo. Though your words are expressive, and generally related to the cold and pains winter brings, there seemed to be resignation rather than emotion in this poem. It just didn't communicate that to me. Carl.

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Tia Maria 16 March 2009

Our imagination takes us places we could never know in real life & this poem was the medium. Another remarkable piece of art. Thanks again

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Sadiqullah Khan 13 March 2009

Keeps the interest alive in a heavy composition. Very nice, Pablo.10

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Sandra Fowler 09 April 2009

I am always nostalgic when I think of frost. Your last lines are superb. Beautiful work. I like this one very much. Warmest regards, Sandra

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Sally Plumb 25 March 2009

Loved this one. Really entertaining..

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Bill Grace 22 March 2009

Pablo, A poem with some very fresh stuff in it. In particular I like these lines: 'the ink of night' 'barn the roan while this land lodges under shrouds of crystalline' A very lovely piece of work that takes us to a distant place. It is very hard to do more. Blessings, Bill Grace

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Bonnie Collins 17 March 2009

Very nicly written about the comming of another season, I enjoyed the constuction of your words, and the imagery was so vivid....

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Kranthi Pothineni 17 March 2009

very nice and clean write...thanks for sharing

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