Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2017
i. my chest shivers with my heartbeat—a hummingbird, flapping its wings.
ii. the first spring sunlight, warm rays of melted gold. light falls like a blanket, lucent, scintillating bronze aglow.
iii. redness on skin, marigolds flowering, blossoming pink scattered on cheeks like stardust. a thousand million comets, light and more light.
iv. warm grass beneath my fingers, sprouting up and growing through my body towards the sun.
v. fields of wildflowers. rosy morning sunrise over ocean. light, light, and light, draping over earth like curtains of amber, twinkling. bokeh pouring through forest canopies, a solar sedative, the fauna doze. light, more light, drizzling from sunbeams, riding on the claws of the birds.
vi. warm golden blankets, lulling the world to sleep.
(g.c.) 2/12/17
gillian chapman
Written by
gillian chapman  21/F/toronto
(21/F/toronto)   
  961
         Mina, chris, blue mercury, Glass, Eudora and 9 others
Please log in to view and add comments on poems