deepundergroundpoetry.com
Morning fills my senses.
There was a faint sweetness as I walked out
to greet the new dawn. Was it a flower near?
I wondered, or maybe it was only the sweet grass.
The fragrant air was odd. I could imagine an angel
had been there looking over me as I slept. Suddenly there he was.
I knew what he wanted – it was on my mind too.
We sat under the fading night beckoning its silence
as long as it would last. Then he took my hand
and pointed to the last star flickering between a branch,
As a flower, the blooms were falling iridescent
and their sweetness was lost through my senses.
Like a celebration in a room of silence, his gaze was inviting.
Published 11th Aug 2015
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11th Aug 2015 1:06pm
Like a loud celebration in a room of silence, his gaze was inviting.
Beautiful.
Beautiful.
11th Aug 2015 1:25pm
11th Aug 2015 3:14pm
11th Aug 2015 3:23pm
11th Aug 2015 5:54pm
I
step out to scent of sweet
herbi
insecti
cide........stimulating an immense
sense of security
step out to scent of sweet
herbi
insecti
cide........stimulating an immense
sense of security
Funny. :) As long as you're safe that's sweet enough knowing. Thank you for your comment. :)
11th Aug 2015 6:39pm
11th Aug 2015 6:48pm
11th Aug 2015 8:54pm
I was on Kos once, and the scent
of the early morning wild flowers
I've never been able to recapture,
or quite forget...
of the early morning wild flowers
I've never been able to recapture,
or quite forget...
It reminds me of something – an experience of the senses – sensitive perception.
It’s happened twice; once as a child and once as a teenager. It was like a smell but it wasn’t. It was a feeling, but it came across as well in the olfactory, and then it dissipated quickly.
Whatever it was – the human mind veiled it.
I got near someone – a stranger in passing and the overpowering sense was there immediately. There was nothing particular about the person; they were very ordinary except that I sensed this thing. The sense was that of a powerful love and that’s the only way I can describe it, but not a romantic love; not as what most would see as romance anyway. It was almost inhuman. It was a belonging and complete safeness and trusting. It was overwhelming to feel them near me and then it left before I could grasp it.
I’ve only felt it twice. As I got older the memory got more and more lost. Not the memory of the experience, but the memory of the feeling, and the smell that was attached to it. The word awe or any other could never describe it. It was like I found a part of me and then lost it again.
I've always wanted to describe it.
12th Aug 2015 7:34am
13th Aug 2015 00:09am
27th Aug 2015 00:26am
the poem is a beauty...an angel found. and your words about the genesis of this poem...sounds as if you were blessed with the presence of an angel.
