tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7578454697877614703.post8098948841642019361..comments2023-05-31T10:47:00.444-04:00Comments on Poetrepository: PO-EMotion -- CheerfulnessMary Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078793537148794310noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7578454697877614703.post-32688460773205588722015-04-26T16:55:33.941-04:002015-04-26T16:55:33.941-04:00Your description is perfect for goldfinchYour description is perfect for goldfinchJonehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04299647754479967070noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7578454697877614703.post-2868756626544875752015-04-26T08:54:54.515-04:002015-04-26T08:54:54.515-04:00"time is a cup" -- that's a line to ..."time is a cup" -- that's a line to hold and savor.<br /><br />And about your emotional range -- these last five words (cheerfulness, zest, contentment, optimism, pride, and relief) are all secondary emotions of the primary emotion JOY. (so sayeth Shaver, et al 2001) Just like we all don't see every shade of every color, I don't think we all feel every shade of every emotion. It has been interesting to look inside (and outside) and see what could be found that even comes close to some of these emotions, hasn't it? Mary Leehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09078793537148794310noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7578454697877614703.post-77976669083634461722015-04-25T21:12:05.121-04:002015-04-25T21:12:05.121-04:00Very, very cheerful! I so love the brilliant finch...Very, very cheerful! I so love the brilliant finches. Ours are turning now from their winter drab-ish to the summer brilliance. They visit the feeder under the oak and are so delightful.<br /><br />And "coruscating?" I had to look that one up, but perfect, perfect!<br /><br />Mine is a bird poem, too, but I couldn't get cheerful, but rather "contentment" or some variation on that theme. (BTW, I'm finding that my emotional range is more limited than the list. Is that a problem? A guy thing? :)<br /><br />It doesn't really have a title....<br /><br />White-throated sparrows hunker <br />under the darkened plums, whispering <br />softly to no one in particular and <br />for no reason but to fill this space with<br />a sad, low-down blues-y song.<br />So I stand under the scuttling clouds <br />and eavesdrop. And at that moment <br />I know time is a cup; <br />sometimes empty and dry, <br />but sometimes so completely full<br />it cannot possibly hold another drop.<br /><br />Steve Petersonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06793183473454298123noreply@blogger.com