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**leareliovag** · 06-15-2008, 05:06 PM

Wow guys... feast to our creative minds!

To the limited extent I knew shelly, I always find him, though easy
enough to comprehend the overall beauty of the poem, very laborious and complicated to enjoy the bits and pieces. I had to strain and take that extra step to chew the tastiest bits hidden behind sheilded similies. Its like kamalhassan's comedy movies with crazy mohan's dialogue, u miss a minute, then u skip one of those choicest comedy. U wink your eye, you miss minute body language and subtler dialogue deliveries.

When I tend to read past in a hurry, I miss lot of beautiful dreamy picturisque beauty poet tried to capture, then I read , and read and read again.

Ah Finally I suppose my mind is painting those yellow and red and withered leaves which fall and dance in the air. As ever, there are messages left behind for mankind.

Thanks a lot to our dear Q, who multiplied my enjoyment and made it very easy for me, with her analysis and interpretation. As much as I enjoyed shelley, I enjoyed Q's post which acted as a torch and pointed out the beauty decors with right emphasis.

[tscii]

Furthermore look at all the rich coloured images that he uses...all are being charged and invigorated by the winds power..these i have hi lighted in red....as simple as saying fire brings to mind all these crackling, ferocious crimsons, yellows, whites, fiery oranges....see how many times leaves is mentioned..and specifically autumn leaves...the most colourful leaves of all...and then see how the colours and colour images fade into gray and ash to the bleakness of winter...see how much death imagery is associated with winter (highlighted in brown)

Finally all I could picture is, you, me and everybody, mechanically following a cycle. Few on the ground sore and low as fallen leaves, few in their prime beauty and life blooming blossoming on trees, and we all helplessly wait for our next change.

Like a cycle...

waiting for snow, rain, heat, and sometimes... somewhere... spring too for split seconds.

06-15-2008, 05:06 PM	#31
leareliovag Join Date Oct 2005 Posts 396 Senior Member	Wow guys... feast to our creative minds! To the limited extent I knew shelly, I always find him, though easy enough to comprehend the overall beauty of the poem, very laborious and complicated to enjoy the bits and pieces. I had to strain and take that extra step to chew the tastiest bits hidden behind sheilded similies. Its like kamalhassan's comedy movies with crazy mohan's dialogue, u miss a minute, then u skip one of those choicest comedy. U wink your eye, you miss minute body language and subtler dialogue deliveries. When I tend to read past in a hurry, I miss lot of beautiful dreamy picturisque beauty poet tried to capture, then I read , and read and read again. Ah Finally I suppose my mind is painting those yellow and red and withered leaves which fall and dance in the air. As ever, there are messages left behind for mankind. Thanks a lot to our dear Q, who multiplied my enjoyment and made it very easy for me, with her analysis and interpretation. As much as I enjoyed shelley, I enjoyed Q's post which acted as a torch and pointed out the beauty decors with right emphasis. [tscii] Furthermore look at all the rich coloured images that he uses...all are being charged and invigorated by the winds power..these i have hi lighted in red....as simple as saying fire brings to mind all these crackling, ferocious crimsons, yellows, whites, fiery oranges....see how many times leaves is mentioned..and specifically autumn leaves...the most colourful leaves of all...and then see how the colours and colour images fade into gray and ash to the bleakness of winter...see how much death imagery is associated with winter (highlighted in brown) Finally all I could picture is, you, me and everybody, mechanically following a cycle. Few on the ground sore and low as fallen leaves, few in their prime beauty and life blooming blossoming on trees, and we all helplessly wait for our next change. Like a cycle... waiting for snow, rain, heat, and sometimes... somewhere... spring too for split seconds.
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