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dancing to be flowers (Free verse) by richa As the light begins to creep over,
The cracked rim of a mountain
And the slow hail of bark
Beats a clock
All the sentients come to
Among the bit part percussions
And recognise the day from
Many similar
Watching as the sun flatters
Its reflection in rivers
And on blonde buttercups
Turned away from the graves
Not honoured just weathered
Slow in the long time
Just facing the wide sky
And dancing to be flowers
Up the ladder:
Sticks and Stones Farm, Pot Luck Thursday Nights
Down the ladder:
Whales in Gastineau Channel
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 8.6
Posted: April 16, 2003 11:38 AM PDT; Last modified: April 16, 2003 11:38 AM PDTWeighted score: 6.8 Overall Rank: 397 Comments:
[7]
princesszoe @ 203.2.128.124
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21-Apr-03/10:56 PM
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Reply
nice images. a little obtuse?
Yes, obtuse (one of those words we all learn in math and toss around later at frat parties as a sign of intelligence and breeding ability) but know, look it up. this poem is hardly obtuse. Scattered, symbolically riddled and a bit cryptic (just a tad) but not obtuse. Nice cleavage by the way, i pulled a load off to um last night and lost not a beed to bargain.
you have a sweet way of bringing that wee bit of light in, just enough to clear the haze of darkness shrouding the landscape. love just dancing to be flowers.
well it started badly, tailed off a little in middle, and the less said about the end the better. Apart from that, I loved it!
ace / 10 285 view(s)
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