'Tis but a charade,
this glow that I show.
By a craftsman I'm made;
alone and
unknown.
Sometimes I hope
for a kiss, or for bliss.
But without I still cope.
No princess,
no mistress
And so, here I stand,
still by the sill.
And gaze at the land,
a windmill,
a hill.
'Till came a day,
the sound of a hound,
it came my way.
Astounded,
I'm found
No longer dreary;
while still by this sill.
This spaniel accompanies me
I've thrill
none can kill.
Author notes
http://farm1.static.flickr.com/99/283532090_61ed0dea5b.jpg
- Skeletal picture prompt
A contest entry
- Picture prompts by Beauty Of Silence.
800 points, ended June 28, 15 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
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:D
I liked this one, clever
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Thanks!!
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Very cool.
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Thanks dude! =]
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