In the beauty of the dripping darkness, of a foreign pitch black night, nothing pierced that velvet veil. Not a star, nor city light. The rain walked down the river, who ever keeps his steady pace, while overhead the moon did strain, to show her pale lovely face The wind was dancing 'bout the tops, of a nearby chiming copse of trees, to then descend and so gently, caress me with her balmy breeze. Then in a spaying play of silver rays, the moon finally broke free, to bathe the land in brialliance And allow my eager eyes to see. Grey and leaden rain pocked waves, clutching desperately the shore, Underneath trembling tortured limbs Blinded by Sight, I closed my eyes to see no more. -Erin C
I really liked the opening stanza, but the rest wasn't as good as I had hoped. Do you always write rhyme? I think this subject matter would flow better if not constrained by the rigid style - you have some lovely images trying to escape!
Thanks for the outside insight, I see what you mean about the rigid style and the rhymes. I will try to break outta that jail in the future.
hey - it's so up to you! But there's some lovely stuff in here, mellow and gorgeous, and it just wants to flow....you know? Look forward to reading more!
