|
Post by morbid1 on Sept 20, 2007 21:48:41 GMT -5
The rain poured outside, The scent like summer, Images returned, Smell of night gone, Silent before the change, Stubborn stars melt down the window, collecting, Who would know the feeling? I listen to the strum of a guitar, Frost on skin, Dirt turned flower, Composed of life, The last mind naked and delicate, Dare to take his voice? Was it only for a moment? Those things seem different, Yet made of compassion, Film trickling through her, The reason of life
|
|
|
Post by bcoyotey on Sept 22, 2007 15:04:57 GMT -5
morbid1, This is a fantastic drops poem. Rich and delicate. Lady B
|
|
|
Post by Muni [Pondering] on Sept 23, 2007 9:20:31 GMT -5
Whoa!!!! Morbid, this is definitely one of you better pieces. I loved it.
Munim.
|
|
|
Post by Mystiq on Sept 23, 2007 17:56:45 GMT -5
Hi Morbid ... I like the title and vivid images in your poem. Good work! Mystiq x
|
|
|
Post by kellygreen on Sept 24, 2007 16:32:25 GMT -5
Very deep with your marvelous word choices.
Bravo!!
kelly
|
|
namaea
Wandering Muse
Namaea
Posts: 86
|
Post by namaea on Oct 5, 2007 0:18:29 GMT -5
I loved this- I wish I could get something so intricate and complicated out of that big jumble of words we have to choose from. Apparently you are excellent at this. I need to get to the point where I see that group of words the way you do and can make a masterpiece of them. Kudos to you
|
|