Sleepy willow reeds grasp flesh,
grazing and biting fluidly sinking,
pulling and engineering gasps,
depth in pools of salt,
burning and raising and falling,
and raising,
trusted leaves dash across,
tingling like static,
across a blanket of endless dreams,
long cold nights are gone,
replaced with the smell of roses.
What do you think of this?
Comments
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I like the last lines:
long cold nights are gone,
replaced with the smell of roses.
It seems a very hopeful statement.
Mike
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Yeah lets pray it lasts. Lol.
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WOW
Wow, this poem is really good! I feel like such an ameture (I know I didn't spell that right) -
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I'm glad you like it.
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