History sleeps hung on perennial cactus,
hoping to be counted, from knot of silence,
whistles still whip in half-light of times,
when night brings a lamentation from poplars,
two young hearts cry identical with moon.
All the legend you keep in your deep arks,
no witnesses but rustles speak to them,
demolish black birds croaking to wind,
to the sky fills with messengers of past,
way, until morning when they meet again.
Idylls waited for to be robed after the doors,
when night was an accomplice of secret alliances,
when the moon goes out after silent hills,,
the prohibited lovers will return translucent
in a chariot thrown by two white horses;
leaving a stela of sleep for desert ways.
Author notes
Picture Prompt
A contest entry
- Forbidden Lovers PIC Prompt by trinajean.
400 points, ended May 11, 2008, 19 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Nicely Done!
I really enjoyed this piece. Very Well Done! I can't really critique it because I liked it so much! The emotion in this poem was very well states! Wow!
Great Job!
Thanks for entering and Good Luck in the contest!
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