3:30 pm, I think of you.
Black hair swirls
through rigid fingers;
silky threads float
as does thoughts -
curling in no particular way.
Seconds corrupt, as mind
assumes you doing the same;
searching moments
as faith runs its course
and hands hope to
touch you instead.
A contest entry
- 12 lines or less by Melissa Gayle.
600 points, ended January 4, 22 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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You really are a very talented writer. But, I don't think you need me to tell you that!
Well done.
Garrison
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This has a wonderful flare and feel to it.
The imagery and flow is well penned.
Splendidly done indeed.
Best to you in all you ever do.
Tony
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beautiful as always, I think you just have a knack of putting together words which sound good together, that they have meaning is a plus.
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Really well penned.
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wow..
imagery created gets the mind wandering..sounds like a
scene that's played in my head a number of times..
excellent write my friend..
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