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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 – Advanced)
Topic: Concentration (07/24/08)

TITLE: Dot, Dot, Dot
By Deborah Engle
07/29/08


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A single, forlorn, glistening tear,
Disdaining its confinement,
Tumbles down, reveals the flaws
In my mask of refinement.

A single fearful, suppressed thought,
“Give vent to all your sorrow,”
Alarms, but yields to iron bands-
Resolve that others not know!

A single, desperate urgent need,
Distraction from my troubles.
Would God that torments might subside
Before sore anguish doubles.

A single mundane, idle act,
Something of no great value,
Some paper and a pen with ink
Becomes my source of refuge.

A single, paltry, minute dot
Appears upon the page.
Then more, some sparse, but others dense,
Find places on this stage.

A single, timid, awkward session
Inspires earnest interest,
Turning dismal thoughts away
To focus on this new quest.

A single tedious composition,
Stippled thoroughly.
Each dot placed with precise intent,
Progress comes, but slowly.

A single unique diversion
Immerses me completely.
Intense absorption brings new rest,
My cares vanquished, discreetly.

A single wholly finished work
Intrigues, but down inside,
This page of dots transformed to art
Gives power to abide.

A single lovely mountain peak
Complete with trees and lake,
Creation’s majesty revealed,
Designed to soothe heartache.

A single plain white bristol board.
Black dots from here to there,
Delivers genuine relief,
An answer to my prayer.


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This article has been read 602 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Yvonne Blake 08/01/08
Very facinating and creative! I felt the quiet pain and the relief as it was turned to creating beauty.
Very lovely. Thank you for writing this.
Karen Wilber 08/01/08
I had to read that first stanza again and again; you packed so much feeling into so few words that it's a whole poem in itself. I like all the sounds you used in this poem to create the feelings.
Sharlyn Guthrie08/02/08
Beauty from pain -you've documented the process magnificently.
Loren T. Lowery08/06/08
Beautiful, deep, profound.
This stanza in particular
"A single, paltry, minute dot
Appears upon the page.
Then more, some sparse, but others dense, Find places on this stage."

Reminded me of something I once read regarding an artist - he does not become an artist until he makes that first stroke upon an empty page. Great job!

Verna Cole Mitchell 08/06/08
Emotion is expressed beautifully in your poem.
Sarah Engle09/26/08
I'm printing this out and framing it - I'll hang it right next to that Mt. St. Helens picture...

Thank you for the "Story Behind Your Mountain."

Hugs!