Hair is silver, eyes are blank, moon shining upon the lake with dim light.
Swans of grey glide on water's edge,
man stares blankly on a mountain's ledge.
Reeds are ruffling, whispering, giggling, hawk shrieks at the sight of prey,
Mouse hears noise and scampers away.
Skin pale and cold, still breathing, still there,
The hawk swoops in and rustles the air.
A women walks by with raven hair, whinnies are heard from a galloping mare.
Hand is stretched out, to the man in white,
Her violet eyes never losing sight.
The mouse is caught, the goal sought, as time slithers by like snakes in the brush.
Breath comes with a rush, hands firmly clasped,
The clock gone, time has elapsed.
Night turns to morn',
The light glinting off of golden corn.
Words are spoken, but never heard. Smiles are seen,
The mind once again keen.
The nest is full of hungry chicks; chittering, twittering, tittering away.
Solitude was once the key, for then there is no one to betray.
Shall he try? Shall he leap?
No. They roll and they skip, they dance and they play.
Sadness at bay, and endless sleep is no more.
They laugh and they feed on the nuts of the trees; hand in hand, their tale becomes of lore.
And the chicks and the hawk are fed once a day,
ti'll another fateful spring in May.
YOU ARE READING
The Splendid Confusion of Reading Poetry
ПоэзияWhat is more fun then sitting down, and enjoying a good book of poetry? Well your in luck! This book contains some recent works of my own making. Feel free to interpret the underlying message, and the confusing words that go along with it!
