Words

 Meeting At Night

The gray sea and the long black land;

And the yellow half-moon large and low;

And the startled little waves that leap

In fiery ringlets from their sleep,

As I gain the cove with pushing prow,

And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.

Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;

Three fields to cross till a farm appears;

A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch

And blue spurt of a lighted match,

And a voice less loud,

through its joys and fears,

Than the two hearts beating each to each

Robert Browning (1812-1889)

I'm in love with Robert Browning’s words. The imagery in this poem increases my in-love-with-words gratitude. The imagery makes me sigh. I re-live the late night return of love.

Many of life's experiences come to us through the senses. We feel the hand of the spank and vow never to test a parent. When I feel rain I remember places of beauty and discomfort. When I see snow flakes I drive more carefully; when I hear the roar of waves and surf, I am invigorated. When I smell bread in the oven, I take out the butter.

Imagery ignites the senses through language. We create images in our mind's eye. In the above poem, Meeting At Night, I see the skiff bearing down on the long black land. I see the hand that lights the match. Auditory imagery is just as powerful; I hear the grit of the sand beneath the bow as it scratches to a standstill. My heartbeat races as I watch the late-night-lover forge forward through farm fields. I hear the whispers of reunited lovers.

Good imagery is like eating chocolate mousse instead of chocolate pudding. It's a pistachio with salt and pepper seasoning instead of fresh-off-the-tree. 

Imagery is a reminder of the power of words and their power to cut or heal, to tickle or irritate, to frustrate or calm.

I love words.