Places in time seem
to be as distant as the skies
that which can be seen
but cannot be grabbed.
My hand is a lasso
that tries to catch bare bits of clouds
and pull them against gravity
(just a little closer
just a little closer)
so that my fogged eyes
can trace clearer lines,
and my heart can colour them
with softer crayons this time.
I'll carry them like balloons,
collect enough,
so that one day
they will whisper wind beneath my feet
and carry me higher
closer to the skies
that once seemed
too distant.
A contest entry
- do you know your colour(s)? by Nicolette.
2200 points, ended March 23, 2008, 20 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you feel?
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
-
Well, I drew on a little color here. I like the poem. It is sensitive. Does that make sense? Shancy.
-
I really liked the image of a hand as a lasso, and also clouds as balloons and the way you want to colour them - that is so lovely.
Such a floating feel about this poem, light and airy and soft, like clouds, like sky. This one just makes me feel as soft inside - and I like that feeling!
Thank you for sharing these gentle whispers with us in the contest.
~ Nicolette
-
Very hopeful. A great take on the idea of reaching for what is unattainable.
-
-
thank you! I'm glad you liked it.
blesses!
-
-
The descriptions in this poem were great. I wish you luck in the contest.
-
-
much thank you!
bless ya!
-
Adding your comment:
1 - 6 of 6
