In this my waiting

[busker]

In this my waiting

Ah, in this my waiting,
how fast October goes,
how swiftly day fades into dark.

My melancholic rose,
like one who sailed an ancient river
where the green papyrus grows -

like her, like you: no age can wither,
nor custom stale. Your nose
may be substantially shorter,
but there’s poetry in your prose.

[Weeded]

In this my waiting

Ah, in this my waiting,
how fast October goes,
how swiftly day fades into dark.

My melancholic rose, holy shit why does this flow so beautifully? is it a result of meter?
like one who sailed an ancient river
where the green papyrus grows - kind of wish there was another rhyme scheme here, instead of this abc/bdb thing so far

like her, like you: no age can wither,
nor custom stale. Your nose curious about the chop here, seems deliberately technical, but a bit meaningless
may be substantially shorter,
but there’s poetry in your prose. I hope this message reaches its intended audience

Love this one Busker, wish there was a bit more adherence to the meter so beautifully prescribed in l2/l5, but the poem has a undeniable flow and a powerful message. We need a wizard to critique this, I think theres something great here.

[dukealien]

In this my waiting

Ah, in this my waiting,  another comma after "this?"  Probably not.
how fast October goes,
how swiftly day fades into dark.  nice stanza.

My melancholic rose,
like one who sailed an ancient river
where the green papyrus grows -  could replace "the" with further one-syllable description but, really, stet.  Reads well.

like her, like you: no age can wither,  
nor custom stale. Your nose  sophisticated reference back to Shakespear's Cleopatra, stopping short of "variety"
may be substantially shorter,  humor noted, kind of a Thurber multisyllable with "substantially"
but there’s poetry in your prose.  and then return to serious compliment.

In moderate critique, the stage-setting first stanza is pleasant but doesn't set it for what follows.  Speaker is sad, but this is only implied.

In S2, who's melancholic?  From S1, the speaker but, proximately, the beloved.  Not sure about that ambiguity, but it's not a serious problem.

In S3, I envy the speaker his well-read beloved who will catch the dramatic reference.  And will take the compliment to her nose - as being less outstanding than Cleopatra's - in the spirit intended despite definite levity.  Which is to say, she's a good sport.

I have no real advice on improvement, other than (maybe) to make clear that the speaker rather than the beloved is suffering melancholy.  Making the nose size comparison less funny does not appeal:  it's a short poem, it has turns, and it ends up where intended.  Good job.  And may *your* Cleo be no less appreciative.

[brynmawr1]

In this my waiting

Ah, in this my waiting,
how fast October goes,
how swiftly the day fades into dark.  implied and not needed for meter to my read.

My melancholic rose,
like one who sailed an ancient river  'the', you are referencing a specific river, right?
where the green papyrus grows -

like her, like you: no age can wither,
nor custom stale. Your nose  this phrase lost me.  Too archaic with no obvious context.  Reads like filler.
may be substantially shorter,
but there’s poetry in your prose.   I enjoyed these last lines. I'm reading 'prose' as a loose metaphor for the day to day of life (and its beauty).

Hi Busker,

I am envious of your ability to continue the rhyme throughout the piece.  It is effective without being intrusive.  I don't like the title being within the first line of the poem.  For me, the poem need more context and the title would have been one place to provide that.

Overall, it is well constructed but lacks some coherence,  perhaps.
Take care,
bryn

[sun_sparks]

In this my waiting

Ah, in this my waiting,
how fast October goes,
how swiftly day fades into dark. "to dark" instead of "into dark" (and maybe "swift" instead of "swiftly" to keep the meter?) 

My melancholic rose,
like one who sailed an ancient river
where the green papyrus grows - I adored this stanza. Not sure about the enjambment at the end after "grows". Does the line break fulfil the same purpose? 

like her, like you: no age can wither,
nor custom stale. Your nose I saw the previous comment about "nor custom stale" - when I reread this stanza without it, it seemed to add to the humour (maybe dropping "can wither" down?) 
may be substantially shorter,
but there’s poetry in your prose.

Thanks for sharing this Busker.

Your rhyming scheme helps to bind this poem beautifully. It begs to be read aloud! 

I really enjoyed the story, but was left wondering - what are you waiting for? The first line promises an ending that doesn't come. (Although, that being said, October always seems to be a period of waiting... for winter, for holidays, for darkness.) In that vein, I would also love to see a different title.

[busker]

Thanks, Weeded, Duke, Bryn, Sun
@Weeded - glad you liked the metre!
@Duke - glad you liked 'green papyrus'. I wish it could've been 'gold papyrus' as it just sounds better, but alas, there's no happy similarity with maize
@Bryn - the coherence problem is noted. Glad you liked some of the rest.
@sun - thanks for your comments. 'The first line promises an ending that doesn't come' is a great piece of feedback, and echoes the sentiments voiced by the others in an elegant way. Also noted yours and bryn's feedback on the title.

Thanks again, all!