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July
Contributed by
pastiche247
on
Wednesday, 18th August 2004 @ 09:12:15 AM in AEST
Topic:
PoemsonBeauty
|
Walking through the thick, responsive, air
Where summer drips like syrup to the shoulder,
Shrugging in the breeze that finds the curves
To brush and leave its fingerprints
To twist my curls and leave these little
Shell lines in my hair
Lying where my eyes can touch the grass
And blades gleam, bright against the sun
A silver sea that caps the shadows,
Whistles to the green that lies between
One name belies this tapestry
Of softly breathing skin
Beneath the moans of courteous doves,
Above the lines of jinking ants,
I stretch and, somehow, crumble
Tasted by the tongue of age,
Swallowed by the ripened sky,
At last, alive; content
Copyright ©
pastiche247
... [
2004-08-18 09:12:15]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: July
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Wednesday, 18th August 2004 @ 10:07:46 AM AEST
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a Message)
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| I remember what thick July air is like, although now I live where the air is thinner. Nice write! |
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Re: July
(User Rating: 1 )
by Nazmythian on
Wednesday, 18th August 2004 @ 05:12:47 PM AEST
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a Message)
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Another wonderful write. "...Where summer drips like syrup to the shoulder" ... very expressive lines.
Nazmythian ~
By the way ... My mother really enjoyed Renewal. Thank you. |
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