I rise in orange to drink my shadow
in grace of meadow glistened wet
where wave will etch,
as face in drip,
dew to drop in tock to tick.
I am poet pointing north,
as step away from humid hauntings
of sticky weather
in search of billows
rising on my golden mountain.
I have not the need to beg you,
see this continence in cloth remembered,
for in my silence
sown in secret
I have severed head to shelf
in hoping soul to think beyond such,
as one to will
in all that find me.
I send you sacred words of paint,
those hues of sound
to sliver in syllable,
a noise to notice more than conversation,
where choice is made to simply sigh,
and know in Love,
a flower's mind
in velvet verse to open window,
when billowed thought is windy ladder,
rung in step without a voice,
save awe to ooze in clouds of canyon.
A contest entry
- Today, I think I shall pick..... (A picture inspired contest) by Barbara.
650 points, ended June 4, 2007, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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A very nice poem, full of rich imagery and description, but I really can't see how it based on the picture.
"those hues of sound
to sliver in syllable,"
very nice, haunting, actually.....
Thank you for entering, and good luck with the contest
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"I send you sacred words of paint,
those hues of sound
to sliver in syllable,
a noise to notice more than conversation,
where choice is made to simply sigh"
Ahhh, Scribe...what a lovely piece this is, my Friend...Such elegance of thought is your domain, my Friend...Good luck in the contest, Sweetie...
Wanda
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I read this poem, thought what it might be about, then looked at the picture and thought where did you get these ideas from? Really very unique and creative way you have interpreted this challenge photo. LOL
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Leave it to you, oh one of obscurity,
to take this picture and see not an image to choose but all the images cast aside. great job!
Ken
-
.
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