Her eyes, shade of meadow grass, painted by the wind
while threads of sunlight weave around each passing cloud
through hair, like velvet blades kissed by summer breeze;
her mind quiet as a lark asleep under a willow’s breast,
still passionate as virgin snow falling at November’s feet.
Like an oak, two have touched azure sky and stormy veil,
hand in hand, their roots traveled deep over the years,
crown of gray glistening, December’s tears now clinging;
surrender they must like late autumn leaves to time,
crueler than the sun bidding a January day goodbye.
Yet threads of red and gold hem in an eternal spring,
like Joseph’s coat, their tapestry of dreams on hold;
that no grave can own, nor any sorrow penetrate,
green pastures, still waters sewn up by angels on high
reap the prize, forever buried in each others hearts.
Author notes
screen name - Carly pop
A contest entry
- something to believe in. by aanika.
1000 points, ended November 26, 2008, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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thank you for the entry,
but this is not really what I was looking for. -
Beautifully written. The images you paint in this poem are vivid. I was just wondering, what if you mentioned the months in the last stanza as well? Or is it sort of apart from the other two
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Well done,so much imagery and such discription. Wonderful write.
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Her eyes, shade of meadow grass,
This first line didn't sound right to me. It sounded like it needed to be Her eyes, shades of meadow grass or Her eyes, a shade of meadow grass.
I absolutely adored the imagery although grammar could probably do with a bit of work. You tend not to use too many capitals or comma's. I love the way you write though it is very graphic.
I love this line:
painted by the wind
I have never heard this used before it is very unsual imagery and very original. It stands out and I really love that.
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This was a treasure
to read and hold on to ...mac
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