For the dverse open night. A poem that is a clin-d’œil to WB Yeats, as if you wouldn’t have noticed.
The silent-most time of day, is this,
the hush before unholy street lights
burst into their orange flame
and draw the crowds outdoors like noisy moths.
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
I’d wrap this moment in the hues of half-light
and sing it gentle songs of twilight
and keep it safe through darkest midnight,
unwrap it in the melting dawnlight,
when the soft hush falls again
into the dew-damp world.
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I sit in the twilight at dusk reading this… and it does make a lot of sense… this is painting with words.
I’m glad you like it, Bjorn. Yeat’s poetry often evokes dusk for me.
I agree with Bjorn. Just lovely!
Thanks Sarah 🙂
This writing makes me want to sigh at its elegance.
Thank you! I’m glad you like it though the elegance is mostly borrowed 🙂
I think there could be poem idea in “borrowed elegance”
And I think you’re just the girl to write it 🙂 Go on, and I’ll try too.
Reblogged this on Die Erste Eslarner Zeitung – Aus und über Eslarn, sowie die bayerisch-tschechische Region!.
Thank you!
Always with a great pleasure, and with many thanks for the high class cultural entertainment.
I try to keep standards high 🙂
Yes, really! We can feel it with every word we read.
That’s very kind of you to say so 🙂
In the thought of twilight, I paint with its essence of glorious blossoms.
Outstanding poem. 🙂
Thank you! I’m glad you like it 🙂
🙂
I meant to say, you are welcome.
You write and put so much heart into your work.
Thanks Charlie. I certainly try to put heart into what I write. It isn’t clever, but it’s sincere (more or less).
You have a gift and many respects to you my friend. 🙂
It must be inherited 🙂 Much respect to you too, the consummate entertainer 🙂
🙂 The mutual is a blessing for us both. 🙂
🙂
P.S I posted something on dVerse that I think will make sense and finally be clear. And be understandable to read this time. 🙂 hahahaha!!!
This I have to see!
🙂
You see the finest compliment I can pay you is that your Yeatsian poetry appeals to me rather than incenses me which it would if it was no good because then it would be a nasty assault on the finest and most sensitive of voices. But you do it well. Very well indeed.
I’m very pleased and very flattered. I love Yeats and admire his poetry intensely. I’d hate to mangle one of his beautiful images.
Not a mangle nor a strangle in sight 😊
W.B. can sleep easy then 🙂
Another wonderful word and image combination. If only the evenings here were that peaceful! (K)
They can be here sometimes. It just depends on how the neighbourhood decides to play it. But in the countryside, it’s always like this.
Oh my gosh, Jane! This is incredible!!! I am SO impressed.
Thank you! It’s a theme I enjoy writing about, and the best images are pinched from the greatest poets, so I can’t go wrong 🙂
Mmm. Evoking silence with light. I like it.
Thank you, Rachel 🙂
This is beautiful. It feels like Debussy’s Reverie.
Thank you, Sascha 🙂 Music, especially impressionist music does seem to slip easily into evocations of nature.
“I’d wrap this moment in the hues of half-light” I love this line. Your writing evokes such vivid imagery! I always love reading about treasuring moments and being 100% aware and present in the live moment.
Thank you! You put your finger on what the poem tries to achieve 🙂
You’ve capture the moment, Jane, next to early morning’s ‘dew-damp world’, my favourite time of day. I love the imagery of the moths drawn to street lights and wrapping the moment in ‘ heavens’ embroidered cloths’,
Thank you, Kim 🙂 he moments of change are the most interesting, aren’t they?
So beautiful. Ahhh. 🙂
Glad you like it, Marje 🙂
The crepuscular has an umberous luster to it, lit somehow from within, magnified by its dying, saturate of what remains. The motherly instinct to tend to this end-of-day babe, swaddle it out of the reach of the sterile streelights had a little of the lullabye of the Celtic Renaissance to it, the Yeatsian whisper. Amen and amen —
If you find anything Yeatsian in it at all I’m profoundly flattered. Thank you, Brendan 🙂
I believe dusk and dawn are the first and final stanzas of a heavenly lullaby meant to wrap us in restful sleep…but modern man insists on disturbing the peace with “unholy” street lights 😉 Fabulous poem, Jane!
Thank you, Lynn 🙂 I see the point of street lights, but does their light really have to be so ugly?
Good question!
Both delicate and exsquisite in equal measure and though the inspiration may be Yeats those words are yours.
Thanks Paul. It’s all been said before anyway, I suppose. If I recycle some of the best bits, who can blame me?
It has all been said before I agree but perhaps not quite like we say it…otherwise what’s the point?
Do you remember the Eric Morecambe sketch of him ‘playing’ Beethoven? All the same notes, just not in the same order? I suppose it’s like that. We try to get something good out of the jumble.
Lol..andre previn sketch…hilarious. Good analogy.
I still find Eric and Ernie hilarious. Husband (from Essex) doesn’t and never did—parents didn’t approve. Do they have no sense of humour down South?
I find it hard to understand how anyone, regardless of location, cannot find Eric Morecambe bone ticklingly funny. Him and Tommy Cooper are the litmus test.Nowt so queer as folk though eh?
Dour chapel folk. Funny how I ever got mixed up with them…
or not 😉
He never fitted in anyway…
Stunning, Jane. You write with such grace and flair. Beautiful and visual, you paint in vibrant colors. I’m so glad to have read this poem 🙂
Thanks so much, Ryan! I’m glad you enjoy this style of poetry. I find it hard to write in the more contemporary inventive forms.
Well you make it look effortless 🙂
The thoughts are effortless 🙂 It’s the getting them into order that takes a bit of work.
Well you nailed it, Jane. This time and everything else I’ve read. Big fan 🙂
Aw thank you! I appreciate it 🙂
I do like the twilight and pre-dawn hours. The light is so faint and colorful. I used to like to go out taking outdoor pictures, It is such a wonderful time of day. Thanks Jane
My pleasure, Walter 🙂 Dawn is the quiet time when the night owls have gone to bed and the workers are only just waking. Evening is when the workers are taking it easy and the night owls are just getting ready to go out…
It’s a lovely thing to do – to watch the hours of the day go by in one spot, observe the turning shades of colors and light…and the cycle goes on.
The cycle carries on, as you say, whatever we do, and whether we like it or not.
Beautiful! Your poem gave me delightful tingles!
Thank you, Michelle 🙂