It's smoking alive
The cat's are gone
And the cherries but birds fly.
The drops platter on the lenses
That catches the sky.
The burns unfold to swell
On the streets
As the clouds cry;
The foots, to hurry
To their abode
Where they merry.
The eyes meet at sheds
Where love happens
While the sun awaits.
The drizzle seems as it will stop
The next moment
Their eyes take off.
But it just waits
Till the hearts are eaten
Like butter and flies
And ends till one of them says goodbye.
The dogs howl at the moon
From the lids of the linhay
Licking their wounds
And wait for sunrise.
Pupils seem to dilate
For school,
And groan for the
Never coming bloom.
As the nature stays dormant
And the romance turns to frustration
It only is regretting
When the rain stops
For unabated separation.
/////
This is an imagery of the happenings that happen through the rain. The roads toil, animals hide for shelter. Two people might find some love in the quiet innocence of the shelter. Students wait for it to stop. But love would want it to stay as long as possible.
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Poetry[HIGHEST RANK #10] [HIGHEST RANK #123 in poetic hashtag] A book for poems written by me, and me only. My emotions are what a book folds My dreams, may the sky bring you to fly. My desires ain't to fly high But to dig with the palms And the broke...
