Timeless is the weir,
to might of crust and clay.
Brushed by spring’s breeze
whirling remainder of
autumns leaves.
They fall like feathers
over his shoulder
to earth’s floor.
When mother cries,
she trembles a rivers flow.
And the gray mass of atlas,
awakens to the misting moss.
Waiting effetely for baked smiles
of summer’s sun.
he knows,
September’s awe is soon to follow.
With quiet eyes,
basking jagged hills
to a motionless horizon.
Cool of night chills gentle,
goose bumps etch
to his weathered skin.
Creeping slowly like ivy
gracing his frame.
First flakes of winter,
will keep warm the soul,
only he knows exist.
A contest entry
- Walk the Line by hoodoolover.
600 points, ended March 12, 2007, 10 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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wow, what a wonderfully written poem. It is beautiful, and I just love the wording and phrasing you used. The rythm and flow were perfect. My favorite lines were:
"Cool of night chills gentle,
goose bumps etch
to his weathered skin."
so descriptive, such vivid imagery. wonderful. -
This is a nice write, you have written some nice imagery and metaphors, I just don't see where the mystery of the stones is addressed, but nevertheless it's beautiful, thanks for entering.
-
I also thought it brought a mystical nature
a well crafted poem as I said Mally your craft grows stronger and stronger,
Thanks for sharing,
Love and Light
Frozentearz -
beautiful, and the goosebumps, perhaps the stones...
In any case, this captured the mystical nature of the rocks, the photo and is so rife with amazing Imagery, this is one lovely, mystical piece in itself. Good Luck in the contest
m.
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