This prairie scribe, is first to rise,
and find my poem,
as sorrow's child,
my orphaned fingers,
Nature's echo,
aching to be read
as morning's dream in velvet scrim,
giving grace to hope,
as night's surrender.
She is there, to brush my ego, warm,
calling me her mountain scribe,
with elevated brush
of painted sigh, and Swanee wind,
breezing blush,
for love's remembrance,
across my fragile inspiration,
where once, she showed me,
light to feather,
when colder shoulder, turned the weather,
away from heart's true imagination,
twisting wind
to bind my fear
in boulder's crack,
and tear my shadow,
she was there,
to take my hand
and see my words,
to play with me, as poet's duel,
spinning wilder rhymes
of free lance arrows,
across our screens
in sweat filled words
to sigh in season,
as worth the read,
honest stains of love's persistence,
without a reason, or exploitation,
but that poetry, might have its way
without new clothes
dressed as emperors,
beyond her touch,
of love to gather.
In a list
A contest entry
- Night Hope by Cat.
8008 points, ended August 24, 2007, 23 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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I love your way with words! Your demonstrative outpouring of love and respect for our Wanda, leaves me in open mouthed awe...
"but that poetry, might have its way
without new clothes
dressed as emperors,
beyond her touch,
of love to gather."
WOW!!!
A sure winner, my Friend.

~ Nicholas


-
I agree with Mary - this is simply wonderful poetry but I did not expect anything else from you because you know Wanda and her poetry so well - just like she does yours. Your voice is so very authentic here - truly beautiful, mountain scribe!
~ Nicolette


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Prairie Scribe and Mountain Scribe...
Puzzle pieces cut together
for each to compliment the other--
greening grasses wave your stone
find mountain meadows all her own
to softer sigh in inspiration
and love to hold in saturation
your mountain eyes in
white-winged Swanee adoration.
Beautiful thoughts, Rich, for a beautiful friend.

-
this is amazing.. just absolutely a breath taking tribute to our friend wanda- solid poetry and beautifully delivered message
m -
Precious,
You have a way of making another feel like the wind, with your words that soar gently forevermore.. I appreciate you my friend..and I see wanda just adored this.. she is a very uplifting soul as well..though by your touching words, you know this.. Thanks for sharing you my dear brother..all the best, but you remain a winner to me always.
Peace, and much respect~
Brother Timothy

-
"giving grace to hope,
as night's surrender.
She is there, to brush my ego, warm,
calling me her mountain scribe,
with elevated brush
of painted sigh, and Swanee wind,
breezing blush,
for love's remembrance"
Well, Scribe of the Mountains, this is a beautiful penning. I knew it would be as soon as I saw you'd entered, my Friend. If I am first to read your work, it's not 'cause I'm "first to rise"; more likely, I've stayed up far too long again.
As for your referencing our first real conversation, I am thrilled that you decided to stay among us, after all. I knew, once you "got the hang of" the site & its inner workings, you would be a success & a very popular writer. I do have impeccable taste, after all.
I take poetry far too seriously, as you know. You honor me with your soulful song, Sweetie. Good luck in the contest.
Wanda


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Sigh...you both have a way of making people sigh with your words. This is a beautiful poem of your friendship and feelings to add to your wonderful collection of poems about her...she will love this one!



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