Peneda Gerez - Portugal

Moments of Joy in a wild place

 

 

Peneda Gerez, Portugal.

 

I sit and look upward to vines on the hillside.

Around me distant smoke drifts

As men tend fragrant fires with twigs

That recently bore a harvest of deep purple velvet.

 

Slow as slow can be, in the evening sun,

Perfume of burning wood reaches us;

Sinking to the hazy light shimmering over the lake

And the meadows which form its shores.

 

In the woods above the mountain town

Are wild ponies, golden eagles,

And it is said there are wolves;

We only saw the ponies and the eagles

 

In places, the floor of the forest was violet,

Carpeted with colchicum – leafless Autumn Crocus

Penetrated by mountain streams, fast and cool,

Sparkling their way to eventual sea.

 

Higher we climbed, reaching the watershed

One side verdant, moistened by rain off the sea

The other, sun-scorched, sere and dry

As if controlled by the National crest-marked border.

 

Crossing on foot from Portugal to Spain

A woman border guard waves and smiles;

She is lonely – glad to see her English guests

At her lonely crossing; we share her wine and cheese.

 

Here is solitude, here peace; we must return

From barren Spain into wooded Portugal;

Into the westerly setting sun

Down winding roads with care.

 

Over the bridge, through the crocus, deeper now

In the warm glow of evening.

Rounding a bend, the lights of Gerez appear

Sparkling in distance.

 

Dinner in a faded restaurant which presents

Food fit for the Gods at a window table

Over a tumbling river and a distant lake

Where the smoke of old vines still drifts.

Our glasses charged with the purple velvet

Of a former year.

 

John L. Berry,   20 November 2008

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Yes - a bit 'prosey' for a poem; What I am trying to achieve is an aesthetic and an atmosphere which is poetic but without the bonds of rhyme and scansion. I am not dodging the issues - I'll still write the sonnets etc and study and use the poetic forms - this is an attempt to show that prose can sound poetic. Does it work? Please tell me.

Reviews

[R J Askew]

Well I think poetry is in the spirit of the poem as much as the mechanics of the wording, so yes it works, at least for me, as it evokes some poetic moments. I esp like the second verse and the final verse. I enjoyed the ramble and the humanity of the moment with the border guard. The poem took me out of myself, made me travel, and want to travel also. It is a joyful poem which captures the sheer pleasure of being out and about. There is little self-obsession in what I have read of your poems, little negative, and never any moaning. It is cheerful and cheering. This is good. I dip into the dark from time to time, but I always prefer poetry in the vein and balance of this poem, both in what I read and what I write. Life is never all a bed of woes, nor all rhapsodic love. So it is the unstated philosophy of your balanced-to-cheerful outlook that I notice.

[Periac]

I loved the prose and I loved the actual write...you entered it and unfortunatly it was too long....but I do appreciate the piece very mujch so.....

[Patient Poet (Yos)]

Thake me there with you next time, or shall I say you already did ... Thank you my dear friend Shalom Yossi

[Lily1111]

Another stamp in my mental passport. It so much easier traveling to these places with you in my mind. No lost luggage or delayed flights. Yet your descriptive writing transports me. A rare gift.

[Wondering Mind]

It certainly does work. Distinct in description; attaining the atmosphere very nicely.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Man, this is amazing! I was totally there. Rich description without over embellishment, a perfect balance. And the thought flows pulling the reader along in the stream with enchanting atmosphere.This was my kind of poem, thanks for writing it because I very much enjoyed it. Poetry is a river and this one flows well.

[emmajoy]

IT WORKS, IT WORKS!

This truly is a post full of poetic tempo, virtually every line balancing the one before or after it. Your descriptions are second to none, you have the incredible knack of bringing a place to life with your well-chosen words. That is truth, not flattery...

I very much like the repeated 'purple velvet'.

There are so many lines, stanzas I find beautiful, descriptive but, particularly this one:

' In places, the floor of the forest was violet, / Carpeted with colchicum � leafless Autumn Crocus / Penetrated by mountain streams, fast and cool, / Sparkling their way to eventual sea.' Can see that!

Thank you, thank you for sharing.