Winged angels weave rich drapes of dreams,
sewing the gold of autumn's sunset
with whispered blues of broken strings,
spawning the fiber of sleep's fantasies.
Beauty and rhythm, caught from forests
of waking myths, and imagined truths,
meshed into fanciful snaps and sonnets;
breathed into memory's darkened bylanes.
Spasmodic eyes meet vibrating nerves,
blending the past and unspoken hopes
spewing the brews of nightmarish scenes -
All to be forgotten, with morning's mist.
A contest entry
- Poetry! by luna-midnight.
1800 points, ended January 24, 22 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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This is a tapestry of rich and beautiful language, its heartstopping I love it truly its incredible
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aw, wow, this is very beautiful, and reads well. thanks for entering and take care
Stephanie ♥
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