[Glenn Wright]

Congratulations on your maiden voyage, Paula. Your sonnet is resonant and full of heart. You take a well-worn conceit—the voyage on the sea of life—and explore its corners and crannies in a fresh and interesting way. Having been an oarsman on life’s boat for most of my life, enjoying the fellowship and resenting the limitation, I can understand the speaker’s desire to set out on her own course.

I share Carl’s qualified admiration of your metrical gymnastics. I wonder, though, if you could add the last foot to line 14 (perhaps a 2-syllable adjective to describe “fingers?” aching? restless?)

Very impressive debut! Welcome!
Glenn

[Mark McDonnell]

Welcome to the Sphere Paula! There’s much that I like about this and quite a lot I wish were different. It reads like the definition of a promising draft. I like the conceit, and the classic sonnet progression is satisfying. And it’s a midlife poem, which I can relate to, ha. And despite some of the language keeping me at arms length (which I’ll come on to) I sense its sincerity. Not that a poem has any obligation to be sincere in terms of autobiographical fidelity; you could be 21 for all I know. But it feels true. I get a genuine sense of the speaker’s yearning.

So, to take it a section at a time:

Midlife I find my seat has been assigned;
I pull, then glide, snared in this rhythmic ride;
The coxswain’s dictate not to be denied;
River, boat, oarsmen, and I aligned.

First, I would add a comma after “Midlife”.
I find the word “dictate” a little clinical. I know that might be the point, that the speaker feels their life is being “dictated” to, but I really want to hear this metaphorical coxwain. I wonder if it could be his “bellow” or similar that can’t be denied.
I’m not sure if you need the comma after “oarsmen”?

Truth told, I chose to undertake this race
And with stout friends have persevered for long
Years, silent, without thought that aught was wrong,
Yet sensing muted grief constraining grace.

Like Carl, I think “stout friends” feels very old-fashioned. And since the friends are never mentioned again, do we need their appearance in the poem? I wonder if something else could fill those two beats.
The enjambment on “long/Years” threw me. It’s the only real enjambment in the poem and it’s a very jarring one, breaking in the middle of a phrase. I wonder if you could end-stop that line with “persevered so long.”, then start a new sentence with “Years, silent...” (or something else). In fact, one of the reasons I was thrown is because you are starting each line with an initial cap. Now, people have very strong views about initial caps in poetry. I’m not a fan, in general, though they can work in some poems. Try the poem without them and see what you think. I'm also not sure the sonnet needs the gaps. It might be better as one block!

I see no reason for “aught” rather than “anything” other than to sound more “poetic” or for metrical expediency, neither of which are good reasons. And the following line is the first time I slightly rolled my eyes on first reading. “Yet sensing muted grief constraining grace”
is too chock-filled with abstractions and I’m not even sure that “grace” is the best word. It feels slightly strained for the rhyme. The speaker seems to be craving freedom, more than grace.

I would bite the bullet and go for a full re-write of L7 and 8.

But courage whispers from within the wind
And rustles long forsaken sails of hope.
Might I yet billow—full-souled—canvas & rope—
Stand proud upon the prow before trip’s end?

I like the first line enough, but adding “hope” in the second line when you’ve already got the abstract noun of “courage” feels like overkill. I feel that the rustling “long forsaken sails” are already implied to be a symbol of hope. To keep the rhyme word, could you do something like

"And rustles long forsaken sails. Sweet hope,
Might I yet billow—full-souled—canvas & rope—"

I really like that whole “canvas & rope” line btw.

There seems to be a missing “the” in “before trip’s end”, again for metrical expediency: “to the journey’s end” perhaps, with a little anapaest in there?

Willing some wilder way to wend the shore—
Unclench my fingers from that oar.

There’s maybe one too many ‘w’ sounds in that first line. And I agree with Carl about “wend the shore”. Maybe the shore (or shores) could be the wilder thing? The destination.

"Let winds carry my bark to wilder shores—
Unclench my fingers from these oars."

Or some such thing?

I really like the short last line. The bluntness works to give a decisive quality.

I hope some of this is useful, Paula. I’ve spent time on it because I see a really nice poem trying to get out of some unnecessary abstractions and dated language. I have a fairly high tolerance for poems that employ some unfashionably archaic “poeticisms”, but it’s a fine balance.

Mark.

Edit: re-reading the other crits again, I see Carl and I are on a similar page about quite a few things here.

[Jayne Osborn]

Hi Paula, and welcome to the Sphere!

Forgive me, but I have to be brief just now as I'm needed elsewhere, but I agree with all that Mark said.
I definitely think that "aught" and "stout" need to go... along with the initial caps.

Might I suggest "Searching some wilder way to wend the shore", rather than "Willing some wilder way to wend the shore—" ?

But your first poem more than demonstrates that you've found the right place to be. Yay!

Now I have to dash...

Jayne