Brisk is the rustle
to one's listless, mummy skin
summoned and unwrapped by inspiration's
translucent skirt,
scraping in gusts across the conscious
like invisible fingers,
stroking where secret inhibitions
have wrinkled our sunrise
expectations.
Then in a moment unrehearsed,
the wind tunnel of visionary rhapsody,
exhales fumes of epiphany,
we transcend the stillness in laughter,
breath fills with an air of newness.
Eyes capture the distance
never before seen,
carried by a flow of haloes into the soul,
life beats to a more vital pulse,
vibrant is the wave brushing the mind,
when orbs are caressed by stirred flurries of fancy,
breezes bring wings the heart,
after fate's fan grants us,
zephyr sight.
A contest entry
- I Summon The Wind by Touchof1der.
650 points, ended February 26, 2007, 24 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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This is breathtaking. The format, the flow, the rhythm... it all meshes and entwines into one beautiful creation of thought and emotion. This left me with a sigh.
Thank you for taking the time and effort to enter my contest. Good luck!
♥ Touchof1der
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Thank you for your kind words and having such a great contest.
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my dont you have a way of caressing your words, they just sorta flow..all the luck in your contest my friend well done
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I wasn't sure if I did okay with this one. You're always so encouraging. Thank you.
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Very nicely done, my friend! I wish you all the very best in this contest! Bravo and kudos
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Take you dear. You always know how to make me smile.
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