Midnight moon, my old friend,
shines away another night,
as I sip the fruit of grape wine,
until the mornings dusty light.
All in the key of life,
mingled with sharp and flat,
notes flow in all directions,
it’s nothing more than that.
Sleep comes not easy,
in the creative mind,
as words poor out endless,
in a life that’s so unkind.
Thoughts without the quill,
shall never rest on page,
as I roll across the desert,
like a ball of wrinkled sage.
Inner thoughts dark and blue,
can twist to be so bright,
as the words I have written,
are now born to come to light.
A contest entry
- Rewrite this poem with very descriptive words by Dangerousparable.
380 points, ended September 5, 2008, 6 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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Excellent
Such a great creation for the prompt. So very well done. Congratulations on the silver.
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There's a very reflective quality about this. It also made me wonder what is about wine that makes one glass flow into another so damn easily. Never happens with beer or spirits, at least not to me. Beer is convivial and spirits not appealing at all!
Congrats on your silver trophy.
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I will respond to all
musical I love this -
I love the feeling and flow of the words. Great job
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Aagin you have penned another great one. Good luck luck. Rose
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This is well-written, with a definite song-like quality to it.
Good one,
Bill
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