There is a change to the
rhythm of the light
Is it something about the leaves?
Changing from green to golden red
Or a pencil line of black
edging the flowers petals.
The untimely change of an end
In the summer weather
chilling winds
Frosted air bringing lace curtain
Crystals to the kitchen windows.
You had been as cold
As this to me of late.
I have craved your warmth
to the point
of leaving you like the summer
was leaving us now....
But I walked into the kitchen
And you smiled at me at last.
Lifting me up your arms
Light as the laced frost.
Holding onto me as tight as the
tangled clematis in our garden.
And the prosody of emotions
Colored my heart
like a kaleidoscope.
At last I thought
Poetry that I can understand.
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 2:22 PM UTC
There is a change to the
rhythm of the light
Is it something about the leaves?
Changing from green to golden red
Or a pencil line of black
edging the flowers petals.
The untimely change of an end
In the summer weather
chilling winds
Frosted air bringing lace curtain
Crystals to the kitchen windows.
You had been as cold
As this to me of late.
I have craved your warmth
to the point
of leaving you like the summer
was leaving us now....
But I walked into the kitchen
And you smiled at me at last.
Lifting me up your arms
Light as the laced frost.
Holding onto me as tight as the
tangled clematis in our garden.
And the prosody of emotions
Colored my heart
like a kaleidoscope.
At last I thought
Poetry that I can understand.
pros·o·dy
ˈpräsədē/Submit
noun
the patterns of rhythm and sound used in poetry.