photo by Hoodoolover
This is my place to haunt,
Soul's silver slab of ancient portal,
Yesterday's bed to make in roses
drifting spirit children
calling time as distant wind
to sigh in colder knell for Love's last kiss,
as pinion points her northern path
to flee my Pillow's searching feather
for abandoned footprint.
I come to mark my calendar of ineptness
in petrified tears,
and know your face is next to mine
when moon is full, and I am empty.
Here, we called each other to smile,
as stars in paper luminaries
and dance our shadows in the night
with laugh to bare a youthful innocence
of magic dust to sound our universe.
In your chosen absence,
I come to offer sorrow
another reason to exist.
As some mistakes are hard as stone
to quiver knee in cold enchantment,
while wondering just where love goes,
and hoping compass still might turn
in magic pebble prophecy,
forgiving such a feeble failure
in shadows waiting to soften heart
as dream, or mist, to someday find you
sitting here among my stones.
A contest entry
- Walk the Line by hoodoolover.
600 points, ended March 12, 2007, 10 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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I agree, the Imagery is wonderful in this poem, and it has a magical, yet real feel and it is simply beautifully done and does quite complement the contest...
I wish you good luck in the contest, Thanks,
m.
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Wonderful imagery!
I love the old world long lost feel throughout this poem,each stanza gripping, and swirling the reader into a place of forgotten dreams.
Yet there within the stones,to be never lost the love that will always be forever within the stones.
Just one gripe!
Should it not be Amongst my stones?
Excellent write!
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Actually Keith...it can be either way according to the dictionary...thanks for your comment
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This is just beautifully sad, lost lonely souls wandering and we left behind searching and ever hoping.
Thanks very much for entering.
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It's almost unbelievable the way you manage to shower your readers with most excellent images and great metaphors
Great job!
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"forgiving such a feeble failure
in shadows waiting to soften heart
as dream, or mist, to someday find you
sitting here among my stones."
Sighhh...Dear Scribe...such beautiful sorrow pours from your pen, my Friend...heartwrenching & lovely...Good luck in the contest, Sweetie...
Wanda
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Tea leaves and runes foretell, but the heart is always a record of moon dust and hope to sound new universes and change its own history. Without it we'd never sing new melodies, and perhaps not the old ones, either.
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