A silent fill
Of my imagination
Falls subject to
Clouds and aspiring rain
Without the mist and filling drapery
Falling from the floruscent ceiling.
And, so she walks from under
The bedposts and failing sun
And lightly transpires her calling
For a dream to conceal this void
Of a restless place that only
Rests (for us).
And, so we speak to ground her
From the fancied reign
Of a clouding parody,
By subjection of handing over
The hands that surround the sound
Of imagination.
Author notes
And she speaks in a tongue unimagined.
A contest entry
- Let your pen run free! by silverscent.
450 points, ended August 5, 2007, 21 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
This was a very positive poem. The language was enjoyable and quite sincere. I did feel the flow was hindered in parts, maybe more punctuation could aid this issue.
Thanks for entering. -
I Like It. =) Its very clever, and very good imagery. I could see it in my mind and suits the picture above very well.
well done, and i hope you all the best for the contest.
Adding your comment:
