"The good old days" ; 1 July, 2023

Poem : 'The good old days' ; 5 April, 2023.

1 may, 2023
Uploaded to ChatGPT for analysis
“The good old days”

Soman Ragavan : Hello. Can I post a poem of mine for analysis, please ?

ChatGPT
Hello Soman! Yes, of course, you can post your poem for analysis. I'd be happy to take a look at it and provide feedback.
 
Soman Ragavan : My poem : "The good old days." Please analyse by each stanza, then give overall comments. Mention similar poems from other authors, where possible. THE GOOD OLD DAYS

ChatGPT
Thank you for sharing your poem, Soman! Here's my analysis of each stanza:
Stanza 1: The opening stanza sets the tone for the rest of the poem. It paints a picture of a beloved village that is like a bounteous mother to its children. The use of archaic language, such as "thou" and "shalt," creates a sense of nostalgia and adds to the poem's overall charm.

Stanza 2: In this stanza, the speaker reminisces about Stanley, a place where life was simple and leisurely. The repetition of the word "pleasure" adds emphasis and reinforces the idea that life in Stanley was full of simple joys.

Stanza 3: The third stanza continues with the theme of simplicity and contentment. The speaker describes how the villagers were satisfied with their rustic cottages and had few material desires. The imagery of the happy housewife gazing at the meadow and the contented farmer mowing his fields creates a sense of harmony and peacefulness.

Stanza 4: The fourth stanza focuses on the natural beauty of the village. The singing trees and blooming flowers provide a fitting and peaceful setting for the villagers to enjoy their evenings. The use of personification in the line "Robbing away the breath of admirers" adds to the sense of wonder and awe.

Stanza 5: This stanza uses simile to compare the village to a young corn, promising a bountiful harvest. The imagery of the kitchen fire and smoke trails adds to the sense of coziness and comfort.

Stanza 6: The sixth stanza describes the playful activities of the children in the village, from marble games to kite flying to bicycle wheel flogging. The use of alliteration in the line "Trampl'd over by the tiny feet of wanderers" adds to the poem's musicality.

Stanza 7: In this stanza, the speaker emphasizes the village's soothing leisure. The children play hide and seek and make music on corrugated iron sheets. The use of onomatopoeia in the line "Bountiful rains drumming away" adds to the sense of rhythm and sound.

Stanza 8: The final stanza wraps up the poem with a heartfelt tribute to the village. The speaker praises its providence, care, and patience, and expresses a deep fondness for its memories.

Overall, your poem is a lovely tribute to a bygone era of simplicity and contentment. The imagery is rich and vivid, and the use of archaic language and poetic devices adds to the poem's charm. It reminds me of Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken," which also celebrates a simpler time and reflects on the choices we make in life.
Well done, Soman! Thank you for sharing your work with me.
 
Soman Ragavan : In stanza 7 : children are not mentioned here; they are mentioned in stanza 12; in stanza 14 it is the rain that makes music on the corrugated iron sheets. Stanza 7 should be re-written.

ChatGPT
I apologize for my mistake in my previous message. You are correct that stanza 7 does not mention children, and stanza 12 is where children are mentioned. Additionally, stanza 14 describes the sound of rain on corrugated iron sheets, not cymbals. I appreciate you pointing this out.

As for your suggestion to rewrite stanza 7, it would be up to you as the author to decide if you would like to make any changes. However, I can offer some ideas for potential revisions that include children:

“In the playful streets of this village quaint,
Children ran free without any restraint,
Amidst the sights and sounds so quaint,
Their laughter echoes with a joyful paint.”

Of course, feel free to adapt these lines to fit the tone and style of your poem as you see fit.
 
Soman Ragavan : I appreciate your suggestions. Thank you. Goodbye for now.

ChatGPT
You're welcome! It was a pleasure helping you. Feel free to reach out again

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Around 1962, at Stanley, Rose Hill, Mauritius.
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                                THE  GOOD  OLD  DAYS

Belov'd village ! Bounteous mother !
A treasure were thou for thy children :
To thee are we so much beholden :
Thy memories shalt we cherish forever.

Cherish'd Stanley ! All in simple  measure,
Life in thy midst would flow at leisure,
When everyday brought its simple pleasure,
Its joys for us to taste and treasure.

Leisurely were our steps, radiant our face,
When thou look'd upon us with kind grace;
As the happy housewife gaz'd at yon meadow,
His fields the content'd farmer would mow.

For us, our simple, rustic cottages
Afford'd  many delightful advantages,
For, indeed knew we no nagging want,
And, material desires were quite scant.

In the past world of our sweet childhood,
The singing trees of the neighbourhood
For us were a fitting and peaceful setting
In which we spent many a joyful evening.

Many blooming and fragrant flowers,
Many a swaying and majestic tree
Dott'd this friendly landscape so carefree,
Robbing away the breath of admirers.

Here and there, soft beds of fragrant flowers,
A riot of delicate white and violet petals,
Sometimes were trampl'd over by little sandals,
Trampl'd over by the tiny feet of wanderers.

                                      * * *
Like a tender young corn,
Every day that was newly born
Promis'd in the sweet-scent'd morn
A bountiful harvest for the seeds sown.

Even the slender smoke trails
Arising from the kitchen fire
Hardly show'd any pressing desire
To leave, Stanley, thy entrails.

Fully absorb'd in a captivating marble game,
Some children hanker'd after some sort of fame,
To make for themselves some respect'd name,
Even with many a trick, mischievous and lame.

Expertly flown, kites in the morning light
Proudly shot up, and here and there flash'd,
And, high above, across the blue sky, dash'd,
In some dramatic, dizzying and dazzling fight.

Afore digging into their meals, homemade and tasty,
Little children flogg'd, in feats quite expertly,
Their bicycle wheels, discard'd but impressive,
In these rustic lanes, joyous and festive.

Prompt to play hide and seek,
Just about any time, any week,
Playful children indeed found pleasure,
In this village full of soothing leisure.

In the cool  night or during the day,
Bountiful rains drumming away
Some improvis'd, symphonic feats
On the array of corrugat'd iron sheets.

A multitude of cymbals let loose suddenly,
Clashing away in some unwritten symphony,
Verily like in some heavenly la major,
Sometimes in some blissful la minor !

After the rains, the vegetable farms
In the morning breeze would sway;
Farms rolling with crops in a crispy array,
Fit to be clasp'd and fondl'd in our arms.

Sweet little village, so provident,
So caring and ever so patient,
Thy memories we do cherish fondly,
And poetically praise thee profoundly.

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