The imprints of teeth, from efforts to focus
The nails that burrowed in a tense focus.
It's dampness from the same hand that wipes tears,
Or the sweat from fright as the paper shears.
Every time, the pencil shivers with fright,
The hand that holds it trembles in the pale, draining light.
Beginning to dance, then stop in place,
but it forms a soft melody of grace.
When the graphite flows on the paper so sleek,
It captures your mind in each delicate streak.
It's graphite end with your thoughts entwined, that ebb and flow,
are both fading slow.
All art and thoughts when your fingers bare,
Touch the graphite, leaving traces everywhere.
To all you do and everything you clutch,
It paints your world with a tender touch.
Your eyes read the words, painting thoughts in your mind,
Every word that you speak sheds graphite, unconfined.
YOU ARE READING
My Flowers After Rain
Poetry"My Flowers After Rain" is an evocative collection of love poems. Let yourself get immersed in the tender words of love, where emotions bloom like delicate flowers. With each poem, the reader is transported to a different landscape where the tapestr...
