Black circles under sunken eyes
Are rewards to the poet’s mind;
Blank stares to the mighty sun
Are from precious moments with the fading stars.
For stars are the poet’s birthday candles
While the moon pretends to be the magician;
The black night throws such a fabulous party
That spills amazing colors to the poet’s illusions.
But everything is over when the sun crashes in
He takes center stage and pulls down the curtain;
Now sleepless nights and would-be masterpieces
Put to end the insomniac's fantasies.
A contest entry
- Insomnia by Danna Hobart.
300 points, ended September 2, 2007, 17 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Great images. Thank you for entering.
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Wow
So elegantly captured and penned. You are a mighty fine poet. Good luck in the contest. lol
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