Pines hold up shafts of pebbles,
Spider cones which shake and
Coil in the wind with sparrows.
Bushes sway from trumpet flowers,
Their branches scaly, slender, and white,
While a glossy holly - wielding deep
Green leaves - sulks in the shade, its
Delicate teeth pointed with sun.
The sky is imprinted by a face
Rounder than the moon,
And pattering rain has left
Dimples in the wet shore,
Marring an uncertain land of reeds.
The promise of summer comes
With the hot prospect of happiness,
But bitter boredom is sure to follow.
And heat. The sand burns.
YOU ARE READING
Someone Like Me {Poetry}
PoetryWith power there come words. And with words there comes music. And with music there comes joy. And that's why I write poetry.
