The Moon breathes upon my roses, blooming
Bright and full, reflecting the blossom I
Have become, no longer the bud afraid
To ope, afraid of being pluck'd. I sit
On the mantle of the memories of
My love, blush at his passing, cherishing
Each moment he reaches out, caresses
Each petal tenderly. Fully-opened,
Soul-bare, I gave, and give, myself to him.
All of myself - my dreams, fears... my love.
Little wonders - what love can do for life...
Author notes
For WH.
Iambic pentameter again, but no sonnet.
One note, as there has been confusion: "ope" is not a typo, or misspelling. It is an archaic abreviation of the word "open", it also means "to awake".
{YES, I read the rules. Song Title option - "Little Wonders" ~ Rob Thomas}
In a list
A contest entry
- Options Galore by Cannonsfire.
1750 points, ended August 3, 2007, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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honesty, i truly new your take on 'ope'. i have word played things myself like that on occasion.
secondly, this is an amazingly beautiful poem, very well written, not one flaw to be found, and very pleasurable to read.
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Thank you for a lovely entry. One small spell error, you have 'ope' instead of open. Mere tintacks thought, it is a very lovely piece. Love, C
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