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Sunday Morn
Contributed by
blurryjoy
on
Sunday, 18th July 2004 @ 12:33:43 AM in AEST
Topic:
LovePoetry
|
The broad dark sky was tree-lined,
Such a vast expanse of gray.
Clouds they were, spilling rain,
On a Sunday morn, but there was no field of corn.
Only Black asphalt paved the way
To the steepled roof, where people knelt to pray
And sing as they did, with hands outstretched
Voices aloft
Weeping
And the man with gestures
Spoke and walked to and fro
Extrapolating certain meaning
From the small words in the big book.
Alters were built,
And should be built, he said,
As I held my lover?s hand.
And wells were dug and wells are good,
He said,
As I recalled the rain
Then drew an imaginary ring on my lover?s finger,
Smiling ,
Hoping that it would not wash away in the rain.
This world is unkind,
Said the nice gesturing man,
And I think that he is right
Copyright ©
blurryjoy
... [
2004-07-18 00:33:43]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Sunday Morn
(User Rating: 1 )
by nexxa on
Sunday, 18th July 2004 @ 02:02:47 AM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
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| The imagery was wonderful thank you and I think I will be reading this many times until I can pull all the meanings out and fill my mind with all the images I can. |
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Re: Sunday Morn
(User Rating: 1 )
by Archie on
Sunday, 18th July 2004 @ 08:40:22 AM AEST
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a Message)
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| Very good poem, when love is found in an unkind world it shows the selflessness of people not willing to give in to their fears or the world around them. I am very encouraged by your poem. |
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