As the thrush sang loud
and your eyes danced bright,
It felt like the sun should never set again.
And the hurrying breath of the wind
Swirled around your fallen hair
As you offered an ear to lend.
I began to tell you of nonsensical dreams
Where yesterdays myths would sing
And the un-set moon would be dancing forever, pushing everything out to space
That thrush kept singing happy and sweet
And your eyes they still danced as we –
discussed oceans that carry the memories of man
and of love that died happily
While we wondered and sang of tomorrow
I thought of one thing
I hoped that skittish songbird
Had another little bird with whom to sing
And I thought of this while I listened to you
And bathed in the warmth you bring
The un-set moon
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Hi, lo-lee-ta.
This isn't normally the type of thing I like, but it deserves a crit at least.
There are some nice sounds in here:
I do however like the idea of the un-set moon. I'd be tempted to play with that idea a little more.
Thanks,
- Neil.
This isn't normally the type of thing I like, but it deserves a crit at least.
There are some nice sounds in here:
&yesterdays myths
The poem itself feels a little too 'personal', and I can't quite enage with it. If you could help bring the reader into it, I think it would be improved. Currently I feel outside when I read it (voyeuristic even).skittish songbird
I do however like the idea of the un-set moon. I'd be tempted to play with that idea a little more.
Thanks,
- Neil.
War does not determine who is right - only who is left. (Bertrand Russell)
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- Contact:
I enjoyed this.
I began to tell you of nonsensical dreams
Where yesterdays myths would sing
really nice.
I began to tell you of nonsensical dreams
Where yesterdays myths would sing
really nice.