Poem-Hunting in Far-Away Lands

In search of a poem, a line to
Form those more-perfect words that
I can just barely find on
Hillsides in the sun and
A tall, lone tree that stands there
By itself, glimmering…

Like those words I come back to on
Distant days in far
Flung lands where I walk under a
Bridge and smell sweet
Roasting chestnuts in a July
Christmas market. Toys and gifts.

That perfect metaphor, or
A quiet line that spills through to
Bright days in a desert. Such red
Soil, like the blood of
Ancients. Seeping and becoming one
With a pale blue sky that I

Reach and reach off to but
Cannot grasp. It is

Too far away so I
Stay here and think of
That little cryptic word
Wriggling around in

The sinews of a time
In winter gardens and the
Bright blue of deep songs
In dark distant and still
Summer skies.

15 thoughts on “Poem-Hunting in Far-Away Lands

  1. Sherry Blue Sky August 14, 2016 / 5:47 pm

    Such breathtaking imagery in this poem, Matthew. I most love the lone tree, standing by itself, glimmering……..the blood of ancients……..and the bright blue of deep songs in dark distant and still summer skies. Very very beautiful!


  2. patchouli moonflower August 14, 2016 / 6:01 pm

    I love this section:

    “It is

    Too far away so I
    Stay here and think of
    That little cryptic word
    Wriggling around in

    The sinews”

    Also, I’m always a fan of him/her
    in this form:
    “A tall, lone tree that stands there
    By itself, glimmering”


  3. julian August 14, 2016 / 6:43 pm

    I enjoyed the whole poem, however in paticular the 3rd stanza. A fine piece of writing Matthew.


  4. Mary August 14, 2016 / 6:45 pm

    Oh, I can definitely identify with the idea of being in search of a poem. I spend a lot of energy doing this. (Smiles.) “The perfect metaphor” most often eludes me! Sigh. Enjoyed this reflection, Matthew.


  5. jae rose August 14, 2016 / 7:00 pm

    How far our imaginations can take us – I think that’s one of the wonders of exploring the world in words..it’s an adventure..chasing down cryptic critters..lolling in peace..raging in turmoil..whilst all the while sat with a pen and paper – the ultimate toy and gift (well, that’s what I pictured as I read anyway..if you are in a desert..be careful out there;)


  6. Björn Rudberg (brudberg) August 14, 2016 / 7:48 pm

    I love the sense of finding poems in the landscape… sometimes I have tried it myself, but you go so deep into the idea here Matthew… splendid wrire


  7. divalounger August 14, 2016 / 8:33 pm

    I love the imagery here–but really, the heart of this piece is the rhythm in it–beautifully written!


  8. Susan August 14, 2016 / 9:49 pm

    How marvelously surreal! and totally believable. Your unique enjambments bring it all home.


  9. Truedessa August 14, 2016 / 9:58 pm

    I think you have found the makings of a lovely poem. I especially enjoyed the last verse. I think nature often speaks to us if we only listen the words will fall from colorful trees.


  10. Wendy Bourke August 14, 2016 / 11:03 pm

    Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. You’ve created something really special here. Beautiful images; coherent, and yet, nuanced lines that stay-the-course and actually get to a lovely introspective juncture. Simply: an eloquently word-smithed piece. I would place it “up there” with your best work, Matthew.


  11. Rall August 15, 2016 / 2:04 am

    of an aussie winter
    wistful with a twinge of sad
    just lovely


  12. Sumana Roy August 15, 2016 / 5:43 am

    “Bright blue of deep songs
    In dark distant and still
    Summer skies.” ……..just for us, waiting to be taken in…..”Toys and gifts.” such gems…


  13. Sanaa Rizvi (@rizvi_sanaa) August 15, 2016 / 7:57 am

    This is beautiful!! You have described the emotions that all of us feel when trying to compose the perfect poem 😀 enjoyed this so much.


  14. Rosemary Nissen-Wade August 15, 2016 / 8:06 am

    Poetry is everywhere, and everywhere is poetry. 🙂


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