PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I look forward to that: I look forward to that posting.  The homage and respect offered to our host, Poetry, is, in its courteous behavior, one more aspect of your greatness as a Poet.  Although we have not been long acquainted, I truly believe that you are one of Postpoems' great ones---one of the chosen few whose poems are, for your readers, a privilege of reading.  

sand squishing between these: sand squishing between these gregarious toes extricate, exfolioate skin to soul, ones woes other kids run off with buckets, spades and hoes but you and I, barefooted, comb the beach in rows  

It is my hope that this: It is my hope that this independence does not stray too far from its connectedness, where it the wards of the seasons each in turn are poets and the star their Muse. Their watchful gaze are its words beaming and radiating abroad their lines and stanzas; undulating unto landscapes - a varied tapestry of poems which is the solid and structured form of their rumination of all subject and scope both great and small, abstract and concrete!  

Thank you very much for that: Thank you very much for that comment.  You obviously understand Prayer in its theological meaning and importance, and I thank you for visiting my poem.

True prayer, communing and: True prayer, communing and drawing nigh, as against wishful thinking and using our imagined bankcard on that magnificent ATM in the Sky.

Thank you very much.  I have: Thank you very much.  I have been struck by gout, again, such that three of my left hand's fingers are not functional right now:  I thought this was impose a temporary silence (and I am one of the most verbose people on earth).  Then I though how the Earth cannot be silenced, and continues its artwork through all four seasons, an encouragement to me to work through the pain to continue with something.  I hope that makes sense; the gout tends to knock me for a loop. 

Wow, how did you do it?   How: Wow, how did you do it?   How did you reach up, down, through and within to collect all the splendor of the universe and distill it to a delicate sprinkle of words?   A miracle of language and the most stellar autumnal poem I have read in many years.   Congratulations!