oh yeah! the burbs! I grew up: oh yeah! the burbs! I grew up in the burbs and spent the early years of my married life there as well. Having lived in the heart of the city and spending all vacations in the farm has actually clued me in on these three types of human habitation.
Thank you for highlighting: Thank you for highlighting that. I was hoping that would be well conveyed when I wrote it. Long overdue thank you. Sorry that I missed your comment at the time. Much gratitude. Hope life is treating you well.
That sounds like a very: That sounds like a very trippy image. Certainly unique. And I would say that your poetry extends creatively beyond it. What a story, what a curse, within the poem.
This is one of the most: This is one of the most meaningful remarks anyone has ever shared with me over something I wrote. Your critiques and support and your chains of thought that you build off of my shares do stay with me. I miss you, friend.
I am not a writer. As you can: I am not a writer. As you can see.
I write my words as they come to me. It may not make sense to professional writers but the great thing about writing is your never wrong.
By the way, the poetry: By the way, the poetry reading went great tonight! I think I'm going to make it part of my Thursday evening routine. I got to read some old stuff and new stuff too. As for the verbose comments, I look forward to them every time. They're little dividends of return on my investment in poetry, and I can be a glutton for positive reinforcement when it comes to creativity! So, by all means continue remarking whenever you feel so moved. No need to hold back, I appreciate all the time you spend crafting the comments.
Thank you for your comment. : Thank you for your comment. Your Poems are definitely a lighhouse at PostPoems. But, whereas the great Alexandrian lighthouse was finally toppled, and (as I understand) some of the rubble is now below water. your Poems, your literary achievement, and the significance of your words will NEVER be toppled. Like ships in the Alexandrian harbor, lesser poets come and go; but your Poetry will continue to tower over the landscape and will not be assailed by the vagaries of time and circumstances.
Thank you for your gracious: Thank you for your gracious reply. and your courteous tolerance of my verbose recollections.
I think you can count on a very useful effect that these poems can deliver to their readers. You have already helped me, a grumpy old coot, to understand certain aspects of my early years, and others will be, and are being. helped as well.
Your comments on my work are: Your comments on my work are poetry itself, so this metaphorical stunner goes far beyond any expectation I could ever have.
Actually, this lustrously descriptive voyage to ancient Alexandria and the archetype of lighthouses could be an apt metaphor for numerous poetic achievements (A few poets on this site, you included, have constructed literary monuments that left me reeling on occasion.)
Very common in your poems, are elements of humor, effortless likability and whimsy that take them to the next level of enjoyment. Your own edifice of wit could be constructed from your ability to see lighthearted beauty in an endless variety of subjects combined with word-forging of the first order. I also found it significant that you chose iambic pentameter to underscore the metaphor's classicism and your overall intent.
I'm insanely gratified and deeply humbled by your gleaming, impeccable tower of inspiration.
As for typos, trust me, I'm the queen of flubs. You just don't see them because proofreading was a finely honed skill that a nun instilled (to use a soft word) in me in the first grade.
Endless gratitude and every blessing.
What a gorgeous and clever: What a gorgeous and clever metaphor! As for the tiny hand glitches we all have: not a problem! If you could see all the typos I made that never saw the light of day, you wouldn't give your very insignificant errors a second thought.
For your encouragement, I could never thank you enough in this one, short life.
I like to think of the little: I like to think of the little traumas like splinters that don't want to be sprung loose. Sometimes, when I have a splinter I'd almost rather cut off the entire finger to make that nagging pain go away. At least if I were an amputee the pain wouldn't be brushed aside as insignificant. Thank you for sharing some of your own personal hardships, I hope this series makes more people more comfortable being vulnerable. If my journey of healing can be of some use to others it makes all the pain worth it.