should not wish to rearrange a leaf,
or pardon the trees grief
lightened by such oak words
certain of dispersal
the usual woes
the day deepens
holds twilight in a chalice
would you have me certain of night,
the need for candlelight?--
what came before will surely come again,
the sparrow’s song
the first blush of rose upon the leaf
day follows night
and corrupts these virgins into flight
to tremble the dying leaf
opening the sheaf at the end
I might miss the sister’s morning song,
or her kiss
which would have made me right all along
to leave the leaf to its own design
and the last line to night’s desire.
In a list
A contest entry
- music: poetry of the air by Nicolette.
1500 points, ended September 7, 2008, 19 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 20 of 20
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Forever Beautiful
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going to break this up into two parts. I comment as I read so you get the best comment possible...
Part1:
wow that is really beautiful and very creative kinda like you were walking through the forest thinking these things. That is what I picture anyways.
Part2:
erm last part is kinda sensual in anture at times verging on the edge of preverted you kissed your sister?????? Or perhaps I am beging dumb. More than likly that is it. Great poem though really liked it great job -
Good
Your emotions and wit wrap themselves around your words and we are left impressed. Your word choice is good and the message sent is strong and emotional. You have a quick wit and an enviable imagination. -
..great stuff.....
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Beautiful words and lines.I could picture everything.Good flow and unique in thoughts captured on this subject.Great job.I would not revise anything it is good as it is.Should have won the contest in my opinion.
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Superb
Ah, I like this write, just as it is. You express your ideas quite well with excellent flow and imagery. Thanks for sharing. -
absolutely beautifully written!! loved every bit of it! well done and keep up the great work! =]
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beautiful write!
opening the sheaf at the end
I might miss the sister’s morning song,
or her kiss
which would have made me right all along
to leave the leaf to its own design
and the last line to night’s desire.
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Another I never commented on huh?
Song. Yes it is. You
born out of Time ... with such beautiful (in)sight and mind.
Makes my heart pitter patter a bit this one does..
knowing that someone still walks the earth who thinks and can write like this. Rare and special species dear Lute.
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This is so very poetic and has an almost classical feel about it. Your words seems to trickle down the page, almost like the see-saw of a leaf falling from a branch. Somehow your poem reminds me of a line from an Afrikaans poem and something I've written about too, i.e. "the heart is but a leaf and love it's only sky". Lovely lyrical quality about this poem... it sings like wind through the trees. Loved the metaphor here. Really lovely poetry - thank you for this entry.
~ Nicolette
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Inspiring ... Thus:
To breathe in love the silent air
that carries dreams of night's despair;
find grayness where dawn's rosy lips
have kissed the curve of moon's eclipse;
to hold the light in orbs of eyes
that shimmer with wet wella that rise
in songs by lonely life is bled
the leaf of love in absence shed;
to feel the separation done
by sorrow's hand, fair flower gone;
in absence autumn's offers sad
in mourning meadows crimson clad.
This is the music of the soul: a petal dry
to float on air: a sob, a cry, an endless sigh ...
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This just sighs beautiful.. You did such a wonderful job in portraying love at it's finest! I really loved reading this.. thank you very much for sharing.. best of luck in the contest..
Angel
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Nice poem...kinda thought provoking...killin' similies!!!
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very well written, on the verge of the classics of years gone. Love the subtle hints of wisdom that littered the streets of your mind.
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When I click on your featured items it is always in the hopes of taking a lesson on free verse. It is usually abstract, or, cryptic... some sort of central theme but painted in a sophisticated impressionist style in which the whole is visible, but not as clear and simple as a coloring book with green delineated by this line and red delineated by that line.
This time around, however, I actually considered that the poem might be a collection of first lines from a volume of poetry, or some such. The sentences and ideas have an intentional awkward and disjointed flow. From the first sentence fragment to the last, you have devolved your usual relatively coherent flow into an almost primitive string of poetic utterances.
Perhaps my Euclidean clockwork is just having difficulty processing your Fourier transformations.
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very good
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very great write. the words just flowed very well. i found a little rhyme here and i like that!! keep on penning!
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I know I usually give you a comment about just what it is you write about from my perspective but when your pen drops such fluidity of love on a page, I think I will just smile and sigh and tell you I felt every word.
C
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I should not want to change the wind
or alter its direction
nor tame the weight of storms
regardless of its peaceful arms
within a gentle breeze
would you have me surely stand
as if on changeless land
when everywhere the ceaseless air
winds zephyrs into clouds
depressions edge toward the west,
squalls harbor crawling east
what seems the whole world over
were I to hold some faultless eye
as if my hands that strong
and banish both into the calm
I'd miss the music made from rain
and darken the sparkle of rainbows
too fragile for my palm.
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