Renewal

When its gone .... its gone!

Renewal

I have pellucid recollections

Of misty memory moments

Ambling windy winding walks

And those refreshing breezes

That brought a greater clarity

To rambling entwined thoughts

Whimsical wispy cotton clouds

Threading calm cerulean skies

Caressingly kiss horizon’s edge

Enchanting my coastline’s vista

And delights my unaccompanied

Shoreline slow stroll splendour

Frothy rhythmic rolling waves

Reliably wash pebbles’ faces

Honing all broken jagged edges

If only good intentions were alike

To smoothing stone reflections

World pungency may be cleansed

Alas our current contemporary

In league with foolish false belief

Haunts humankind humanities

Hence pressing requisite renewal

To reduce our carbon footprints

Is required to heal nature’s scars

Past life’s lustres are lost forever

When magnificence is maltreated

Thus exigent is a healthier habitat

Copyright @ Phillozofee 2020

Reviews

[barleygirl]

It's interesting how your poem starts out with a laminar flow that slowly degrades into turbulence . . . your poem reads & feels like the very degradation you suggest. In the beginning, your word choices are delightful & seductive . . . toward the end, your word crafting feels harsh & bumpy, as well as the meaning itself crumbling into the detritus of what we're doing to all this magnificence. Especially in the first half, your alliteration is spot-on for my preference. Many at the cafe have dabbled lately in extreme alliteration & it's kinda nice to go back to the balanced kind! *wink! wink!* Fondly, Margie

[Coyote Poetry]

I love the complete poem.
"Frothy rhythmic rolling waves
Reliably wash pebbles’ faces
Honing all broken jagged edges"
The above lines. I could write a epic poem from. The words were haunting and wonderful. Thank you Phill for sharing the outstanding poetry.
Coyote

[jacob erin-cilberto]

the very beauty we poets write about...may soon be gone, if humanity doesn't wake up...and show some love to Mother...
love this poem...and the alliteration reads like a strong breeze.
j.

[Robert Trakofler]

Wow Phil the artist ear is filled with the whispers of need for change and hears the cries of natures bleeds! This poem is written beautifully sad and paints a picture of hope in a grey cast sketch of blue skies. I hear those whispers too my friend and tears curl to them often we must effect change before it's too late! not a thing I don't like about this poem in form and flow it has everything I love about poetry in it:)