A seargent's coat with brass buttons;
I peer out to the sky.
A window with gilded edges,
And milky hands reaching out.
The glassy eyes reflect desire,
And tremble with Plato's thoughts.
The gap between the fragile lenses
Fades with each shooting star.
It grows smaller,
Leaving no trace
As the shining ceases,
But dreams remain.
Author notes
I chose this title because whenever I went to look over the choices, this one jumped out at me. I read the words and it instilled in me an image of a window in the sky, opening then closing. *shrug* At least that's why I wanted to use it.
A contest entry
- Come and get your title... by Celticjedi.
600 points, ended January 19, 2008, 26 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Interesting! I've never read anything like this before, but it is wonderful and I relate to what it is saying. And from reading it I know that title was meant for you.
Thank you for your entry, keep up the good work. Good luck. 
~Cj
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