Pot Bellied Witness (poem) by Jon Michael Willey on AuthorsDen

Reviewed by Christine Tsen

Reviewed on May 26, 2010

What a nostalgic poem...with some interesting smells that become so vivid. I really like it!
Christine

Reviewed by Tinka Boukes

Reviewed on February 14, 2010

D'Lus'us offering!!

Love Tinka

Reviewed by Sheila Roy

Reviewed on February 14, 2010

Clever details in this poem, Jon. You take us there. Have a happy V day:)
Sheila

Reviewed by Edwin Hurdle

Reviewed on February 11, 2010

Great poem,take care

Reviewed by Poetess of The Soul Sheila G

Reviewed on February 10, 2010

Jon-
I've been THERE! Fishing is my/our PaSsion! You express it so clearly as reality!
Love your Writing Style!
WRITE ON!
READ ON!

Blessings and Wonderful Memories, SOULFUL_PurplePaSsionsSHEEoxxo

Reviewed by E T Waldron

Reviewed on February 10, 2010

Jon, this is outstanding! i'm there smelling the fish,the pipes apple smoke,watching the eyes of the barterer's! Glorious writing! Thank you!

Love,
Eileen

Reviewed by Liana Margiva

Reviewed on February 9, 2010

WONDERFUL!!!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva

Reviewed by Georg Mateos

Reviewed on February 9, 2010

Took me back to my first and only time with fish boat, crunched ice, stale tobacco, cold...yes a great reminiscence...thanks.

Georg

Reviewed by Dawn Anderson

Reviewed on February 8, 2010

Jon, your use of imagery is wonderful... you paint a beautiful memory with your words.

Reviewed by Ron (sketchman) Axelson (Reader)

Reviewed on February 8, 2010

Great memories Jon
Ron

Reviewed by Christine Alwin

Reviewed on February 8, 2010

..what a treasure to have such vivid memories, wonderful visuals and smells, so nice to see you post Jon
Love and Blessings,
Christine

Reviewed by Phyllis Jean Green

Reviewed on February 8, 2010

Marvelous!! So imagery-rich. Shows, rather than tells! LOVE it, Jon. Encore! ENCORE!! xOx 'Pea' xOx

PS: love to see this in format that allows more space between lines.
Not double-spaced, just. . .guess it's the font that (from my view) is
a problem. Kind of hard to read. My eyes are bad, but...what I am seeing on my screen [600x800 resolution} is close-set lines and. . .come to think. . .a little less space between words than is common. [?}

Reviewed by Ronald Hull

Reviewed on February 8, 2010

You took me there, plunked me down, so I could watch. Never liked cod... something about the oil. Reminds me of the city's ice rinks with warm-up houses on wheels--an old man to tend the pot belly and keep the peace.

Ron

Reviewed by OnepoetGem *the Poetic Rapper

Reviewed on February 8, 2010

a flashback scene well painted Jon, cheers

Reviewed by John Flanagan

Reviewed on February 8, 2010

This is perfect painting as rich in detail as any Old Master's, and it's not just images, although they are superb, it's atmosphere and feeling and the salt of real living and doing; among your very finest, Jon, and that's saying something. This I shall treasure.

John

Reviewed by JASMIN HORST SEILER

Reviewed on February 8, 2010

For a minute I could smell that Erinmoore tobacco smoke among the fishy nostrils, wonderful in it's flavour Jon. Jasmin Horst

Reviewed by Kate Burnside

Reviewed on February 8, 2010

Such immediacy here, conjured through some very sharp images that appeal to the mind and senses, Jon; we feel we have an understanding of these two contrasting protagonists although knowing so little about them, their whole life and relationship summarised by your vivid, concise capture. A wonderful timepiece, too. xx

Reviewed by Regis Auffray

Reviewed on February 8, 2010

You have very effectively recalled and shared the ambiance of the moment and the place, Jon. Truly a creative gift. Thank you. Love and peace,

Regis

Reviewed by Sage Sweetwater

Reviewed on February 8, 2010

Norman Rockwell capture of yesteryear, Jon. This could have just as well been the scene in my small mountain hometown in the west forty years ago when I was a young girl growing up in the 1960s. My folks owned the general store and we had a pot-bellied stove as well that brought the townsfolk together over bologna my dad sliced an inch thick on our old-fashioned meat slicer, cheese and Walter's beer, all sitting around the pot-bellied stove I polished with stove black once a week and cleaned the wood floors with linseed oiled sawdust. My dad bartered too, the price of meat, and although he held solid to townsfolk as well as other proprietorships buying his product, he saw that a fair deal is what kept him in business. Honesty keeps the man or woman opening the doors...thanks for the memories.

Love,
Sage

Reviewed by George Carroll

Reviewed on February 8, 2010

You can't haggle with the masters of their trade and expect to win.
Good one Jon

George C.

Reviewed by Mr. Ed

Reviewed on February 8, 2010

I love nostalgic pieces, Jon, and this is a fine one.