She lay on crumbling leaves
Waiting, sleeping, dreaming
About those distant days
And she comes and stays, but always has to go
To leave her gown of leaves
Left to vanish in the snow
The bottle of season is held within her delicate hands
To call upon the heavens
To cry its frozen tears
Her graceful presence still lingers across the barren land
A contest entry
- Picture Inspired *10 entries only* by Naridill.
300 points, ended August 11, 2007, 9 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
I like the idea around this piece, the story told has alot of wonderful images. I do feel some bits dragged on though and could've been cut short.
Thanks for entering.
Much luck.
Adding your comment:
