It’s not for me to say exactly how bad or good this poetry is, that of course would be pretentious. I have to say and must say, however, that I feel this is at least very authentic, legitimate verse. Almost all of it rhymes, yet, I like to think it has a voice and attempts a kind of mellifluous flow, if you will {if you will} It’s been very painful over the years, to witness insincere pseudo poetry sometimes thrive because of it’s author’s name recognition while someone like myself with no public saliency is ignored by so called traditional publishers. It’s very irritating. Therefore, I’m giving it one shot with AuthorHouse and will, if not successful, go back to being merely a pauper, a peasant, a pawn and a poker player! In the opening poem, “The Vicissitude of the Storm,” the gossamer threads represent spider webs blowing in the wind. If I’ve ever accidentally written a perfect poem, that would be “The Season”, in this volume. It’s not a very long poem but the alliteration, I like to think, creates an astonishingly nuanced yet heart throbbing winter romance scene. In, “A Stone in a Pond”, I try to convey the sadness I feel of how a baby is often adored by people standing near it who see it through their egos. But when it becomes less amorphous, grows into something possibly wonderful yet different then them; it is scorned for not meeting their specific expectations. I haven’t written any more poetry for many many years because of becoming weary of fighting unreceptive publishers. Yet, I’ve read and adored many sincere poets like Poe and Keats. The movie “Bright Star” about John Keats and his love interest, Fanny Brawne, touched me deeply. And I like to think, I too, have a little something to say…