deepundergroundpoetry.com
Far Horizons
There is nothing on the horizon
except stones and withered leaves
left stranded on a shore before me
by old man winter’s evil sneeze.
Walks are littered long and painful
in the damp and cold of rainfall
as it drips and pitter patters
through the nakedness of trees.
Old acquaintances of summer
with her sunlight bright as mirrors
now as winter grips my shoulder
pulls me past the meadows older
toward the edge of swirling waters
while he sings to me of freedom
underneath the deep blue sea.
except stones and withered leaves
left stranded on a shore before me
by old man winter’s evil sneeze.
Walks are littered long and painful
in the damp and cold of rainfall
as it drips and pitter patters
through the nakedness of trees.
Old acquaintances of summer
with her sunlight bright as mirrors
now as winter grips my shoulder
pulls me past the meadows older
toward the edge of swirling waters
while he sings to me of freedom
underneath the deep blue sea.
Published 20th Dec 2012
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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The author encourages honest critique.
20th Dec 2012 6:01pm
I'm so glad you did... although I sense a response to Gray Skies Sing tugging at my heart. Otherwise I would have worried someone might read me into this particular poem. Not possible; I have always been one hell of an escape artist and continue in that vein.
Sometimes telepathic, I wrote this days ago. Bad news came late last night and again this morning... but that is neither here nor there.
Thank you once again for your beautiful, uplifting poetry. Safely tucked in dreams nothing can hurt me except myself.
Sometimes telepathic, I wrote this days ago. Bad news came late last night and again this morning... but that is neither here nor there.
Thank you once again for your beautiful, uplifting poetry. Safely tucked in dreams nothing can hurt me except myself.
Anonymous
- Edited 15th Jan 2013 8:52am
15th Jan 2013 8:51am
Cool shot at brilliance...again.
Love the write, M.
Last line of first stanza had me gripped, I say.
Interesting analogy of winter as an old man, for a change, hey!
Man, I feel the emptiness you've successfully created in the weaving of this.
You do have a way with words, no question:-)
Keep penning, Rave!
Cheers
Tidespotter
Love the write, M.
Last line of first stanza had me gripped, I say.
Interesting analogy of winter as an old man, for a change, hey!
Man, I feel the emptiness you've successfully created in the weaving of this.
You do have a way with words, no question:-)
Keep penning, Rave!
Cheers
Tidespotter
15th Jan 2013 8:40pm
Thank you Tide... I go into winter with a rather jaundiced eye cast toward making it out the other side unscathed. So far so good...still got all me fingers 'n toes. :-)
18th Jan 2013 7:26pm
Beautiful, beautiful, miss.
Old acquaintances of summer
with her sunlight bright as mirrors
now as winter grips my shoulder
pulls me past the meadows older
You write with a gentle passion that infuses
life into your poetry.
Greatly enjoyed.
Old acquaintances of summer
with her sunlight bright as mirrors
now as winter grips my shoulder
pulls me past the meadows older
You write with a gentle passion that infuses
life into your poetry.
Greatly enjoyed.
21st Jan 2013 4:10am
Truly appreciate your comments, so kind they mean a lot to me. Thank you so much, Mary Ann
27th Feb 2014 11:13am
The third part almost made me tear up.
After all the bald and cold descriptions,the phrase "old acquaintances of summer" felt too warm on my heart to handle,and really you shuffled back all my memories.
Very intelligent,very moving and very well written.I'll make sure I always check your work !
After all the bald and cold descriptions,the phrase "old acquaintances of summer" felt too warm on my heart to handle,and really you shuffled back all my memories.
Very intelligent,very moving and very well written.I'll make sure I always check your work !
