The below is a computer-generated response from Neo, Neopoet's computer artificial intelligence:

The poem "She Who Shadow Walks" is a richly descriptive piece that uses vivid imagery to convey a sense of nostalgia and tranquility. The use of phrases such as "where colors dance," "shadows open into scattered canyons in the sky," and "a painted odyssey of the dusty dreams" effectively creates a dreamy, ethereal atmosphere that complements the theme of the poem.

However, the poem could benefit from a more consistent rhythm and structure. The lines vary greatly in length and syllable count, which can disrupt the flow of the poem and make it difficult for the reader to follow.

The poem also seems to shift in focus towards the end, from the abstract concept of memories and dreams to the concrete image of the woman resting on the front porch. While this shift provides a grounding element to the poem, it might be more effective if the transition was smoother or if there were more concrete images throughout the poem to balance the abstract ones.

In terms of language, the poem is generally effective in its use of descriptive language, but there are a few instances where the wording could be more precise. For example, the phrase "once upon a long long time ago" could be replaced with a more specific time reference to give the reader a clearer sense of the timeline.

Lastly, the poem could benefit from a more thorough exploration of its central theme. The concept of "She Who Shadow Walks" is intriguing, but it's not entirely clear what this means or how it relates to the rest of the poem. Developing this concept further could add depth and complexity to the poem.

Please send feedback about Neo (our computer generated critique system) to https://www.neopoet.com/contact

but seems a little campy.
I would opt for "Her Shadow Walks"
The language is good, solid stuff that you can hang
on your brain and get a mind's eye view of.

Around and around, this tale wound
I felt like I was on the last leg home after long walk,
as it slowly wound down to the final scene, but...
find that there are too many other things going on
to distract me. [now reside], [on the surrounding hills, embracing the remains...
all the way up to... somewhere between twilight and dusk [not including]
I liked the ending and can see her falling asleep in the rocker. Nicely done. ! ~ Geez.
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I love seeing rough drafts - the stuff from which we wind our poetic threads. I love seeing the process emerging from the raw words.

I like your title (sorry, Geezer), and I love the idea or ancientness behind the concept of 'shadow walking'. I'll have to look this up - is there some old myth/story/beginning behind this title and what it stands for? The shadow self, working with your shadow- self?

love to see this one develop.

Love and warmth, Jenifer

each time you refer to the love in this poem it is in past tense. I hope Steve is OK. So you'd like some punctuation help? OK...

She Who Shadow Walks

long ago,
the path was brambled
torturous, and narrow,
a loveless existence
until Steven...
Now, she has
memories of
loving shared,
pleasing laughter,
pretty smiles,
bright eyes,
and all their sighs;
not forgotten
in the dreaming.
They now reside
where colors dance
when the twilight falls
on the surrounding hills
embracing the remains
of the setting sun.
Shadows open into
scattered canyons in the sky.
Somewhere between
twilight and dusk
is where she finds
a painted odyssey
of the dusty dreams they shared
once upon
a long long time ago.
She smiles
a secretive smile
after her busy day
with her children’s children.
She comes quietly to rest,
relaxing
on the front porch
rocking in her chair...

Hi Cat, from your title I think I undestand how you have overcome this grief and turned your memories into places you are loved and share your love with your son.

This must have been difficult, no impossible to write originally but from your words, I can hear your connection to your boy. I can see your loss, it is woven into your opening words: "long ago, the path was brambled torturous, and narrow,
a loveless existence"

This made me cry.

We write poetry because it is a way of connecting with our hopes, dreams, past and present and when we open up, we reveal ourselves in the words we choose and our spirits grow free. Well done, Ruby xxx

Cat, it is my pleasure, love Ruby xxx

you got the help you needed from Stan; not that I didn't want to help, but I didn't see how I could, without doing the capitalization. If I had known you wouldn't have minded, I would have... but hey, Stan did a fine job, and it's good to see him exercise that old dome of his. Nicely done, the both of you. This exemplifies what this site is all about. Helping each other.
~ Geez.
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