Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
The clouds curl over mountains cold and blue and rains hiss whispers back to thunder's speak; so all is mist and green and gray of hue and in this land a child would wonder seek. Cowichan coat warms her in its magic with knitted forms of mystic dancing deer. That she's alone might seem all too tragic, but in her mind all that she dreams is here. She holds an abalone , pearlescent grey And wonders at the colours caught inside. She lifts it inside out up to the day and wishes every heartfelt dream applied. The abalone then vanished all aglow and in its place appeared the bright rainbow.
0
Jul 16, 2012
Jul 16, 2012 at 3:29 AM UTC
The Child of the Mountain (A Sonnet)
The clouds curl over mountains cold and blue and rains hiss whispers back to thunder's speak; so all is mist and green and gray of hue and in this land a child would wonder seek. Cowichan coat warms her in its magic with knitted forms of mystic dancing deer. That she's alone might seem all too tragic, but in her mind all that she dreams is here. She holds an abalone , pearlescent grey And wonders at the colours caught inside. She lifts it inside out up to the day and wishes every heartfelt dream applied. The abalone then vanished all aglow and in its place appeared the bright rainbow.
deborah-birch
Written by
67/F/Canadian
Jul 16, 2012
Jul 16, 2012 at 3:29 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem