I forget labors of day
when I shuffle through rosy bits
of last leaves, kissed by sunset,
in hopes for one last wish.
Weeds, left on their own, rustle wryly
at having been left to pry up night
on their own, having spent their best
on a few flurries of well-blown seeds.
I feel closest to all that is good
when pink fingers of day pull up
night’s heavy blue
for a second’s pink prayer.
Author notes
jpg provided by contest holder
A contest entry
- Sunrises and Sunsets by PureCountry.
875 points, ended September 9, 2007, 18 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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Weeds, left on their own, rustle wryly at having been left to pry up night on their own, having spent their best on a few flurries of well-blown seeds. What a wonderful freeform poem. The words drop so easily into the mind as the eyes take them in. When spoken, it flows just as smoothly. I appreciate the time you have taken to enter, Good Luck in the Contest.
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thank you..... it is real without obsession and obsession with spirit.
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Your words are a well~tended, wild garden that always smells so sweet, my Friend. Good luck in the contest, Sweetie. 
Wanda
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ty gf, I appreciate your comments always and always and always. sunrise brings your words to me and sunsets bring your poems.
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You have painted a passionate picture of sunsets sweetest scene...
"I feel closest to all that is good
when pink fingers of day pull up
night’s heavy blue
for a second’s pink prayer."
Beautiful, Scribe! ~ Nicholas
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thank you pen friend... nature is so awe inspiring...
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adorable. square/circle/triangle the idea gets boxes like a present with ribbons and ties from your heart.
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aw, and that gift comes from creation's hand...these sunsets and sunrises..and me waking and sleeping with words in my mouth.
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