I cradle palm,
your flesh in rise of glowing finger
grasping feather, wild to hill,
in windy straw, flower's strength,
of storm when bending,
kneeling squall to filtered light
inviting rain to bow in color.
I am wishing moment's smile
when knowledge yawns before your wonder,
and simple
rises to the sky
in billowed canyon's echo dancing,
beyond the trendy trail of clever,
without our shoes to stop the earth
from penetrating every aspect.
Here, no word should ever find me,
and you would be my sigh of heaven,
my breath in season,
cliché to capture
sheltered love,
to forge our reason stopping time,
as children laughing.
A contest entry
- She's a fingertip's swirl in an ocean... by tara wilson.
900 points, ended July 13, 2007, 10 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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"and you would be my sigh of heaven,
my breath in season,"...
"cliché to capture
sheltered love,
to forge our reason stopping time,
as children laughing."
Thank you for this entry...I love it
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Yeah. Poetic and inspiring. Three Bunnies.
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This is beautiful, my friend - truly. There is such a lovely sense of joy and anticipation about this poem, as well as the wish to just disappear and love and be playful. I so loved this one.
~ Nicolette
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