 |
 |
 |
| |
fall
Walk this path, cinders crunch
beneath our soles, leaves blown
away en mass, the rushes' ditch
flowers bold and brittle wait
devil's paintbrush bristle's touch
on seeds to tint the trees
a sweet star waits to wake
from this extended sleep
not death: too bright,
the sky to call it otherwise
don't dream of this life behind
sorrow claws too deep; pulls
my heart until a void remains
fill it up with hope: you sleep
and dream future perfection,
bliss found, frost coloured trees
fall.
Want to comment on this Poetry?
Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...
|
 |
|
[Back to top]
|
|
|
|
| Verry well written :) |
 |
Comment by: Ithiya - 2008-01-08 02:33
|
|
| I really like the sense of emotion behind this poem... Though I only know my own. Your descriptives though, are certainly beautiful, and eloquently said. |
|
|
| I love the sounds in this poem. You can almost hear the frosty leaves crunching under your feet. I also enjoy to hear Canadians and Americans call it "fall" like the English did in the 16th century, much better word than "autumn" that sounds more like some kind of Delhi taxi cab. Also I'm always amused to see a "posse" of armed shop keepers thundering after a couple of celluloid bank robbers. It's a word that was used during the English Civil War. |
|
|
You're a poet and you know it!
I liked the wording in this poem. You have a good way of expressing things.
"flowers bold and brittle wait
devil's paintbrush bristle's touch
on seeds to tint the trees"
very nice indeed.
les |
 |
Comment by: Arley - 2007-12-28 21:07
|
|
| You never cease to amaze me, you mighty word-smith, you! The last three verses are nothing short of brilliant! |
| 1 2 Next |
|
 |
|
 |
|
|
