Paint A Poem

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Just random stanzas painting a portrait of a world in my dreams. Note: I gave up rhyming after awhile too much work.

Submitted: December 07, 2012

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Submitted: December 07, 2012

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The breeze shifts so gently,

making grass rustle slightly,

deer murmur softly to their young,

about summers past sprung.

Like peace ever settling,

The winds blows ever rustling,

Into tree tops bowed,

Like a solemn vow.

 

A twig it snaps,

As a owl naps,

A uttered who,

Brings something new.

With a twitch of ear,

A wolf can not help but hear,

The trot of hooves over gravel path,

Leading home to a barn of tath.

 

Dirt shifts underfoot as little heels kick up,

Foals play as children sing and dance,

For crops are growing,

And farmers ever sowing.

Into market they will go,

where there will sit a crow,

Eyeing as corn is passed,

Waiting for it to be missed,

A swoop and a dive,

Then into higher skies.

 

Over trees it will go,

Never letting go,

Of small prize won,

Into nest it will swoon,

To feed waiting beaks at noon.

Looking down one will see,

A white cat looking up at thee,

A regal form stepping lightly from shadows,

To sip from meadows water,

Ears lay back at waters cascading call.

 

Scales glimmer as lizards climb,

Over waterfalls sleek walls,

Into foams open air,

Walks a bear,

With a grunt and a huff,

It smacks the water,

And a hungry humph,

As it snatches its food.

A twist of head and a smell of air,

A wolf watches quietly,

Bounding away into sweet forest grass.

 

The trees brush and whistle,

speaking of days so warm,

Of days so rainy,

Of nights so cloudless,

Of a moon that shines,

Like any golden ore,

The land it whispers,

Of true gold and true life,

It whispers,

Of what is,

What Was,

And what never will be.


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