The trees like claws, reach up towards the sky,
Their branches stand so barren and brittle.
Plans of year-round green often go awry,
Though nature’s beauty is decreased little.
The brilliant blue of the crystal dome,
Nowhere marred by the soft splash of a cloud,
Rests over the top of our Earthly home,
Its hue shining downwards so bright and proud.
The wind cuts sharply underneath my skin,
Its cold a force to be fought with drawn swords,
All animals hide themselves and their kin,
When through the reeds they hear its ghostly chords.
Yet here the plants of a young spring do grow,
It will once again be warm, this I know.
2 spoopy
ReplyDeleteYour poetry is always highly illustrative and interesting, and I love your diction! Great read as usual.
ReplyDeleteYou chose a challenging format and nailed it. The only line I thought was a stretch was the the sky being proud. I did like the reeds singing ghostly chords--reminded me of a Rumi poem I once read.
ReplyDeleteYou chose a challenging format and nailed it. The only line I thought was a stretch was the the sky being proud. I did like the reeds singing ghostly chords--reminded me of a Rumi poem I once read.
ReplyDeleteYou chose a challenging format and nailed it. The only line I thought was a stretch was the the sky being proud. I did like the reeds singing ghostly chords--reminded me of a Rumi poem I once read.
ReplyDeleteThe poem is more descriptive than the actual scene I have seen by my eyes. I appreciate that you can always keep the quality of your writing no matter what requirements ask you to do.
ReplyDelete