Like feathers drifting through the sky,
And lily's opening up.
Shooting like flowers as they die,
A spinning, dying cup.
A bloom of colours red and green,
Purple with silver leaves,
Shooting, spinning, colours are seen,
A fiery line it weaves.
Bursting through the blanket of night,
The golden rockets swish,
Petals fall in red and pure white,
A gardeners secret wish.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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I like your originality. I haven't read any poems about fireworks before.
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:)
Thats really nice!
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