Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
dorothy-andersonPoems
It cannot put pen to paper But all a flower has to do Is open up its delicate petals Unfolding like a noble lady's fan Broadening to blossom into a lovely jewel Poetry without any word A spider weaves its web Like an author spins tales It's intentions upon its survival, but Its intricate home of threads and strings Like a gossamer harp Is enchanting to perceive A make and design of fragile strength The oceans and seas Mighty and commanding They roar and display their majesty With crashing waves and splashy bravado They spare few prisoners And graveyards of sunken ships Whisper of stories untold Birds chirp and warble With songs that humans long to know For they travel through the air In simplistic freedom Their chorus of communication Is a poetic symphony just as entertaining As any band of musicians or artists The winds blow and whistle Though they have no mouths If you listen close enough You can hear their secrets Their breath of life in the Ever flowing Breezes that enfold us You'd swear the mountains Were painted that way Brawny and broad, peaked high above Against the grand canvas we call the sky Yes, paintings are poems, too For a picture speaks a thousand words But no mere man can make a mountain You see We are merely students Taught by God's natural, creative genius We are merely imitators Of what nature displays We are not originals For we are not the first poets Nor the first storytellers
0
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 1:31 AM UTC
God Is the Original Poet, the Original Storyteller
It cannot put pen to paper But all a flower has to do Is open up its delicate petals Unfolding like a noble lady's fan Broadening to blossom into a lovely jewel Poetry without any word A spider weaves its web Like an author spins tales It's intentions upon its survival, but Its intricate home of threads and strings Like a gossamer harp Is enchanting to perceive A make and design of fragile strength The oceans and seas Mighty and commanding They roar and display their majesty With crashing waves and splashy bravado They spare few prisoners And graveyards of sunken ships Whisper of stories untold Birds chirp and warble With songs that humans long to know For they travel through the air In simplistic freedom Their chorus of communication Is a poetic symphony just as entertaining As any band of musicians or artists The winds blow and whistle Though they have no mouths If you listen close enough You can hear their secrets Their breath of life in the Ever flowing Breezes that enfold us You'd swear the mountains Were painted that way Brawny and broad, peaked high above Against the grand canvas we call the sky Yes, paintings are poems, too For a picture speaks a thousand words But no mere man can make a mountain You see We are merely students Taught by God's natural, creative genius We are merely imitators Of what nature displays We are not originals For we are not the first poets Nor the first storytellers
dorothy-anderson
Written by
dorothy-anderson
American
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 1:31 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem