An Unpolished Gem

I love the few minutes right before a storm starts. 

I wrote this sometime last year during a difficult period of my life, and it was meant to be the rough draft of an epic, perfectly rhyming poem with beautiful meter.

I never got around to finishing that poem, but I read the notes recently and decided I kinda liked it the way it was. Ignore my previous post if you want to. ;)

Blue twilight

heart heavy with love and longing

glance out window

beckoned by stirring leaves and dust

breezes blowing away the heat

distant thunder

cool color

aching heart, uplifted eyes, wind embracing

warm house at my back, cool night on my face

Inhaling the salty scent of heavy clouds and rain-struck earth.

Storm is my friend

knows how I feel without the words

lose myself in the joy of the storm

wind chime swings

rain dampness blows in

thunder closer, rain increasing

heart releasing

whispered prayer

house retreat

sound cut out.

blue twilight behind window-glare

heart not calm,

but now glad.

Amy Young, 2013

It's Poetry

Hello, this is Amy. As you saw in my bio, I attempt to catch some of the beauty of the world with poetry, so I was delighted to be asked to contribute to Carmina. This is not my first poem, but I wrote it recently, and it is about poetry itself, so it seems most fitting to be my first post.


Arrange the words like this and see:
What do you have? 
It's poetry.
The way the lines are loose and free
What is that?
It's poetry.

Even a poem
that does not rhyme
is poetry
just because
the words do not just speak
but somehow 
sing.

Feel the meter as you read,
Like pounding hooves upon the ground.
The rhythm beats into your heart
Almost music, without a sound.

Corny rhymes like "tree" and "we"
Do not make it
Poetry.
Place each word deliberately,
Then you'll have
Some poetry.

So whether your poem rhymes or not,
However the meter starts and stops,
Set your mind at liberty,
Make each word ring beautifully,
And we who read will all agree
That what we see
is poetry.


Amy Young, 2013