|Reviewed by Ronald Hull
|A pretty sticky situation. First thought. This is going to be erotic. Second thought. Soothing poem. Final thought.
|Reviewed by . ignis
|Nature's beauty can leave us speechless, lost for words, persuading us to only feel without attempting to apply linear logic or dimensional perception. This poem and image however come close to doing that anyway.
|Reviewed by Tinka Boukes
|Beautifully done Susan!!
|Reviewed by Hariharan Balakrishnan
|Very good imagery and poetic sense. If only you give free flow to your thoughts and forget the rhyme/structure aspect, this could turn out to be burnished gold, Susan. Please re-visit the poem. You can do it. It is in you- an excellent poet.|
|Reviewed by Felix Perry
|This poem rocks Susan the color, sights sounds and smells permeate the verses like spice on cooking changes the taste of somthing bland.well done piece of word painting my dear friend.
|Reviewed by E T Waldron
|For me, this is when you are at your best! I can linger over the beauty of this poem with joy! keeper! Thank you, Susan!
|Reviewed by Martin Hebert
|~~Susan~~very beautiful poem~~i will carry and read at sunsets~~
|Reviewed by totally anonymous
|beautiful imagery such a feeling of perfect calm in this write well done|
|Reviewed by A PAX
and I love the title......sometimes, a title and a poem won't match........
this is perfection :)
|Reviewed by Peter Paton
You invoke visions and feelings of comfort and ease in this evocative and compelling piece...
There is no greater feeling in the world, than being at peace with yourself...
As my Grandad used to admonish me " You must first love yourself, before you can give love to anyone else "
|Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner
Stunningly imaged, beautifully written and experienced; well done!
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
|Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
|Beautifully put. Perfection here with this one, as I could reflect your words to mirror the little bayou town I live in. (Well, it isn't as little as it used to be after Kartina.) I can look out the window where I sit and see the stout southern breeze whipping through the oak and willows and the bayou rippling a little dance atop the water to go with the southern gusts. Loved your poem, got me going!|