Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Walking through a meadow, so slowly I journeyed. And as I walked, I saw all that was. I saw before me all that we have known and will, The grand and dull, destructive and loving. There was an old woman upon a log. She looked kindly and loving, But behind her were flies around an object I couldn’t see. I walked on. Further along was a beautiful mistress. One who had known many a tantalizing sin. She beckoned for me with a mesmerizing swing of her hips. I walked on. Upon a horse sat a man who shone with splendor. His rings cost more than my house, and his wealth was distinct. He held his hand out to me with a wide smile, offering me a place upon his steed. I walked on. An innocent hag with a rancid secret; An unmistakably breathtaking concubine; A promise of friendship and wealth. I walked on. Upon a boulder sat a girl alone Her brown hair pouring out a gray cowl She did not beckon to me, she did not call. Yet something inside me stirred still. I called to her and she looked up to me. Hazel eyes shining with stubborn tears. I held my hand out to her, and she took it willingly. I sat down.
0
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 3:17 AM UTC
Walk On
Walking through a meadow, so slowly I journeyed. And as I walked, I saw all that was. I saw before me all that we have known and will, The grand and dull, destructive and loving. There was an old woman upon a log. She looked kindly and loving, But behind her were flies around an object I couldn’t see. I walked on. Further along was a beautiful mistress. One who had known many a tantalizing sin. She beckoned for me with a mesmerizing swing of her hips. I walked on. Upon a horse sat a man who shone with splendor. His rings cost more than my house, and his wealth was distinct. He held his hand out to me with a wide smile, offering me a place upon his steed. I walked on. An innocent hag with a rancid secret; An unmistakably breathtaking concubine; A promise of friendship and wealth. I walked on. Upon a boulder sat a girl alone Her brown hair pouring out a gray cowl She did not beckon to me, she did not call. Yet something inside me stirred still. I called to her and she looked up to me. Hazel eyes shining with stubborn tears. I held my hand out to her, and she took it willingly. I sat down.
Written by
29/M/American
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 3:17 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem