bruschetta
05-25-2007, 07:53 PM
I'm not usually pleased with how my poems turn out, but this time I am. Enjoy this one and let me know what you think.
Darkest Place
Gathering discretely in the night,
Are the fleeting thoughts
That fuel my imagination.
The trees beneath which I rest,
Like others, like the night,
And like my own quest for solitude,
Protect me from a piercing eye;
Shroud me from the passers-by.
At first glance, you'd never see me.
As a perfectly brainwashed child
Remains at the mercy of those media sharks,
The coarse and wrinkled skin of my face
Cannot be distinguished from the bark 'neath my ears;
I have no desire to part with these coiled roots...
'Round my toes, through my heart, in my mind.
Though had it been but an evening stroll,
A gracefully slow-paced promenade
Among an onslaught of nature's finest,
Perhaps then you might have saved me.
Upon seeing with your mind's eye, and
With it shedding but a single tear,
A stillness could have later been recalled.
During the sunny days of spring in the north,
She is the first drip of an ancient icicle;
The offspring to first venture from the nest;
Her cautious curiosity is stunning.
As she kneels to peer inside my soul,
I am freed by the moon and the stars...
Each reflected in her diamond eyes.
Hand in hand, she leads the way.
Darkest Place
Gathering discretely in the night,
Are the fleeting thoughts
That fuel my imagination.
The trees beneath which I rest,
Like others, like the night,
And like my own quest for solitude,
Protect me from a piercing eye;
Shroud me from the passers-by.
At first glance, you'd never see me.
As a perfectly brainwashed child
Remains at the mercy of those media sharks,
The coarse and wrinkled skin of my face
Cannot be distinguished from the bark 'neath my ears;
I have no desire to part with these coiled roots...
'Round my toes, through my heart, in my mind.
Though had it been but an evening stroll,
A gracefully slow-paced promenade
Among an onslaught of nature's finest,
Perhaps then you might have saved me.
Upon seeing with your mind's eye, and
With it shedding but a single tear,
A stillness could have later been recalled.
During the sunny days of spring in the north,
She is the first drip of an ancient icicle;
The offspring to first venture from the nest;
Her cautious curiosity is stunning.
As she kneels to peer inside my soul,
I am freed by the moon and the stars...
Each reflected in her diamond eyes.
Hand in hand, she leads the way.