Rieping
Regular Member
The beauty of grace is that it makes life not fair.
Posts: 59
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Post by Rieping on Dec 21, 2006 3:04:54 GMT -5
So I shake myself and turn away
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Post by ananemyss on Jan 17, 2007 22:34:30 GMT -5
looking to an empty day
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Post by ninamm on Jan 21, 2007 2:15:10 GMT -5
Wherein the beauty of solitude will surround me
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Post by ananemyss on Jan 21, 2007 13:43:54 GMT -5
among the ruins of my sorrow
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Rieping
Regular Member
The beauty of grace is that it makes life not fair.
Posts: 59
|
Post by Rieping on Feb 7, 2007 8:41:48 GMT -5
<the poem thus far>
Beneath the windowsills wait daffodils
watching the darkening sky
Above, the moon stands guard, expectant, too
and wild hens hunched high
turn to face gathering winds,
Winds that castigate the rooftops
Calling out in chilling chorus
Like the Eskimo Children's Choir
Pouring pure sound on the bare terran platter.
Seeking answers in the echoes
as I pondered a loved one's death
"If I could only see," thought I,
"The windswept waters wash our woeful ways"
And the music of a thousand mournful violins
Keep me weeping behind dry eyes
So I shake myself and turn away
looking to an empty day
Wherein the beauty of solitude will surround me
among the ruins of my sorrow.
<I think that poem sounds somewhat fair to my ears... Good job everyone!>
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