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Tuesday 19 June 2012


When the World Was


When the world was wish-full
there were walks which
always lead somewhere.

Going and coming back
was not as now
a circular event,
with forced purpose, but no point.
Each step extended boundaries,
when the world
was still small windowed
by the first frontiers.

© James Rainsford 2012




Note to readers: Posted to Open Link Night at dVerse Poets. Your views are welcome and I'll respond to all who visit and comment here. Thanks for your visit and my kind regards to all at dVerse Poets. James.  

12 comments:

  1. So much more big and adventurous indeed from just a simple walk and no rat race to go through.

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  2. it does seem there is less to explore, less sense of wonder.

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  3. Lovely poem :)

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  4. Love wish-full and its dual meanings. Your poem reminds me why I love walking through more remote forests, those without paths or signs. I feel that I am going somewhere not simply following a direction someone else decided I should follow. Wonderful poem.

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  5. So hard to explain what it is to get older--you don't explain here, you illustrate--that solidifying of life into a worn groove...well, don't get me started or I'll maunder on like an old coot. ;_) Fine work, James.

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  6. This is so good, we need to wander and wonder. This round and round the 'track' of life just doesn't do the trick for me! Great write.

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  7. I relate very much to this piece about 'then and now,' in fact it describes perfectly where I find myself.(How strange you should know!) Beautifully written, well done James.

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  8. There was such an excitement to every excursion in our youth; but I still get thrilled at the idea of travel and newness. The idea of "seeing more" keeps me fired up. But I understood exactly within the way you wrote the poem..exactly what you meant.

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  9. Lovely write, James. Hard to accept that we are getting older and that things are changing...

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  10. Nice reflections ~ I feel the world is getting smaller now but nonetheless is still for me, exciting to explore ~

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  11. "when the world was
    still small windowed"

    A moving write.

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  12. Like the play of boundaries here, and what they define.
    Inside, outside, constraint, targets, lives;

    "...windowed
    by the first frontiers..."

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If you wish your views and opinions to be published here, please be polite and respectful. I welcome feedback on my work and will try to respond if you take the trouble to post a comment. Thanks for visiting 'The Sanctum of Sanity.' Hope you enjoyed the experience, James.