On the tip of a whispers song
dusting breaths from gossamer wings
I am bound in conservatory’s peace
Wrapped in a timeless Brumaire
lyric’s leisurely drape my exposed soul
nourishing notes from this grand feast
As I allow my lashes to lightly rest
on a bridge denying loneliness
beside me brittle branches reach
gently rustling in their speech
Forward beckons
the butterfly orchestra fades….
Author notes
Visual Stimulation: Hand_of_Sorrow_by_Iardacil
Brumaire - the month of mist
A contest entry
- Picture Prompt by Angelflower.
600 points, ended August 30, 2008, 9 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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This is really beautiful and enchanting.. I really love the flow of this as well.. You did such a wonderful job with this piece.. Thank you very much for sharing.. best of luck in the contest..
Angel
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A Lovely place to spend the evening, enjoying the solitude. very nice.
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