Rusltling through fragility's speech
as ending's creation is torn,
feathers broken to encircle skies
and the falling hope does falter.
Each breath supported on delicacy,
as the mouthed fragrance of roses;
and the scents were mere winds
swept along zephyr's currents.
Garnishing the platters of love
where truth seeps of emotion,
and honesty are my wings beating
in rhythemic motion of faith.
For I am lust of knowledge,
and a revelation of open kisses.
A contest entry
- Flight - PIF by Bosky.
300 points, ended December 9, 2007, 9 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Criticism Is Very Much Welcomed -- I Am Here To Learn
Comments
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Great imagery and I could smell roses on the wind. This was an amazing love poem.
Thank you for entering!
Always,
Cassie
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Oh I love the mouthed essence of roses where life is gyrating on zephers....how beautiful a write....what delicate dear images...
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