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helios-rietbergPoems
They were prison cells Driving deeper into me Watching my colour drain Clearing all sorrow And then the heat would come * * * Gently shovelling away the clouds Poised on the mountains on the horizon Creeping in like rolling carpets Gorging on the ropes of life And then digging in tightly What the slips of sentience said Yellowing grain fields and dimes Hearty bellows on the chimes of the day Greeting the returning milkmaids Reaching out to the night Dreams and fantasies always simmer Dissipate in the breeze of the dawn Trimming the woods of their roots Grooming the phantoms lovingly And wandering stars.
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Nov 23, 2011
Nov 23, 2011 at 10:08 AM UTC
A Memory - A Dream: I
They were prison cells Driving deeper into me Watching my colour drain Clearing all sorrow And then the heat would come * * * Gently shovelling away the clouds Poised on the mountains on the horizon Creeping in like rolling carpets Gorging on the ropes of life And then digging in tightly What the slips of sentience said Yellowing grain fields and dimes Hearty bellows on the chimes of the day Greeting the returning milkmaids Reaching out to the night Dreams and fantasies always simmer Dissipate in the breeze of the dawn Trimming the woods of their roots Grooming the phantoms lovingly And wandering stars.
© Helios Rietberg, November 2011
helios-rietberg
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helios-rietberg
Nov 23, 2011
Nov 23, 2011 at 10:08 AM UTC
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