Longing

[storebrand saint]

Longing

Sidling Time on the shelf,
Tired and impatient, reaching for
Friends outside of Time’s influence.
Too many mountains along Time to cross,
I blunder about, hoping my legs will learn
To carry me swift to that inn of good fortune.
That in where my folk, half-drunk on life
Dance jovially on the table,
Unaware of disapproving glances around them,
Which were they known,
Would carry them fully
Into inebriety.
And here wishing the Rain
Would remember to call her,
And make this journey full.
If Thunder could stand together
With Rain while I walk.
I would have something to speak with.
And oh, how Thunder might carry my word,
Long distances to those I long to jig with,
As once I know she did,
As deaf the ears her voice
May fall on seem to be.


This is my first post here in the guild, I hope for vigorous criticism. Thanks for your time.  

[evolvingwolf]

This strikes me as an old Irish type poem. I really like it. To me, it seems that the person in this poem longs for the freedom of blissful unawareness of other people's thoughts. One thing that I think would make this poem have a little bit more 'oomph' is a little more vivid imagery. Keep at it!! ^_^