There's the signal from the skies,
Awaiting near the woodlands beguilled
Were the lords and ladies in apparels best,
Its time for sunset,
Laughter in the air, ecstacies arise
At the royal gates of timbers wild..
In the finest silk and satin gowns
The ladies are nice, all set to reap
the mulberry blooms and asters in green
And all the bluebells seen..
Violets topping the meadow's crown
With fagrance drenching the evening deep..
Its the perfect time
A season borrowed from a fairy's dream,
Woodland folks in a careless spree
Strolling free..
In whispers low, there's their native rhyme
Sung to the rivulets and the sunset's gleam..
Deep inside the woods beguilled,
Where the lovely wild flowers grow,
You can hear them still.. their laughter in echo
And the song they sung, ages ago..
In a list
A contest entry
- Title Options... (Closes in 5 days) by Touchof1der.
525 points, ended April 14, 2008, 19 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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where wild flowers grow
The signal from the skies is magical, the words are further enchanted by what follows... woodlands are unbelivably dark and sinister places at times yet light and wonderful at other times. There always appears to be inexplicable forces at work and you capture that in your own style.
I aim to read one poem a week (time limits!) Its like a quality meal to savour you have to take time and energy to savour these things........
What's your strategy?
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This was truly well written and full of some really awesome imagery. I enjoyed this piece. Thank you for sharing and best wishes to you in all of your endeavors. Keep that pen handy and ever ready for use dear poet, Good luck in the contest!
♥ Touchof1der
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