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  Poetry, and discussions of it, have a long history. Early attempts to define poetry, such as Aristotle's Poetics, focused on the uses of speech in rhetoric, drama, song and comedy. Later attempts concentrated on features such as repetition and rhyme, and emphasised the aesthetics which distinguish poetry from prose. From the mid-20th century, poetry has sometimes been more loosely defined as a fundamental creative act using language. Poetry often uses particular forms and conventions to expand the literal meaning of the words, or to evoke emotional or sensual responses. Devices such as assonance, alliteration, onomatopoeia and rhythm are sometimes used to achieve musical or incantatory effects. Poetry's use of ambiguity, symbolism, irony and other stylistic elements of poetic diction often leaves a poem open to multiple interpretations. Similarly, metaphor and simile create a resonance between otherwise disparate images—a layering of meanings, forming connections previously not perceived. Kindred forms of resonance may exist, between individual verses, in their patterns of rhyme or rhythm.

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Moontide


She spoke of a land beyond all seeing; - Of a time beyond all knowing and being
whence from the  seas - sailed ancient ships,
bearing legends with fire wielding - raptures within their midst.

I glimpsed this place, - beyond the plains...
Where a vast forest, - through the mists of rain;
melded with the haze of mountains between - enclosing foliage, before a lake;
enchanted by firelight - within a dream...

So I saw this paradise, - and  losing delusion
with the demise - of so many corrupted,
and pretentious lies, - I surrendered myself...
Utterly submitting to the mystic place - of  which, even now,
leaves only a trace - for memory to grasp with a tenuous grip.

Still, I strive to grasp - the conundrums glimpsed in a vision passed,
though all I know - is the thundering roar of an ebbing tide.

And even at this dire last, - memory of the dream binds me yet...
Unable to forget the pain she let - (unknowingly)
constrict my heart with love. - So,
until our souls need not maintain - the dividing force of mundane life,
bound I shall remain.

Perhaps then, hopefully, - might the past and  future neglect their strife
to let the wounds at present mend...
Perhaps then, I might glimpse that land again...
Where the wind of a world forever sighs - with the countless voices of those betwixt
waking and dreaming  within her eyes.

(Poem completed: 1999)

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Poetry written by: Bryan Garaventa; all rights reserved. No unauthorized reproduction or distribution is permitted without prior consent. If you would like permission for either of these purposes, or for any other reason, please click here to inquire further.

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