Walking into falling light
and around me all of my world
dissolves into shimmering walls
and vapor becomes places touched,
vision fades to distance of breath
sense eludes late sensations;
a place of thought.
Black shapes begin to move from floor
ceilings begin to speak, echoing
tones bring colors and vibration
like a rhythmic heart, winds
rise softly within still air;
amber bright turns rose flesh red
distant murmurs come close, and warmth
touches my face; startled blinking
finds a loving smile, and dark steady eyes
look deeply into me
lips move near my ear,
breath and kisses;
coffee, paper and pen....
Author notes
Write about writing but do it in such a manner that we will not say, "I had read such before". A great deal of literature has been written about writing...can you find the far edge?
Free Verse
A contest entry
- Open Theme- 500th Contest by CarolDesjarlais.
1200 points, ended April 12, 2008, 14 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
-
Oh, another really great poem about writing..how gentle and loving this is...this activity can be both tyrant and tender, indeed.
-
Awakened by the muse..what a marvelous feeling. Well done, poet. Good luck in the contest.
-
Such prettiful pictures you've painted
You're a True Artist, my Friend.
~ Nicky♥
-
I totally love all the beautiful metaphorical description you've used. it reminds me of walking late at night to clear my head.
The ending really works to give the image of a start of inspiration. Leaves me wnating to know what came next. what was inspired...what was written...?
brilliant xx
-
Feels like morning inspiration going through the day...
I like it how you let us feel how the inspiration came and ended by showing the pen and paper - a poem created by morning touches...? That is how your poem made me think.
I enjoyed the suavity of your words here.
So lovely
-
Exactly.
Well done, my friend. Eloquently put, and original as usual.
Adding your comment:
1 - 6 of 6
