Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Ray Dunn May 2020
nighttime phantoms of birds swoop low through the breeze,
greeting bats with sweet melodies and mingling in the trees.
not only do their songs tingle the ears of few,
but they are gone with the moon and the mid-morning dew.
misty nights and mornings are so perfect. ever since i started working the morning shift that starts at 6am, i can really appreciate the sunrise
Fheyra May 2020
Farewell, no—
Not a crow,—
But a lapse of lightning,
Flashes in films— with rocks thrown on a brim—
Creating verges on waters,
As it expands,— a mirror was formed
But shrubs are sobbing,— As the fog meddles with the river— So blinding; Then the mirror disappears
When droplets keep dripping,—
I could not see anymore..

"Find me..find me.."
Who are you?— "Find me.."
Are you a wolf from another pack?—"find me.."— Were you buried? — A breath? Or only pieces?— "find me.."
To be revived below the tree is a befuddling been..
"Find me.."
Somewhere, you are;
Somewhere, you will be—
I will find you..

In the misty voids, I followed you— and submerged to your world
The assuage of none,— oh, 'tis an eerie coldness—
Of belabouring sorrows and haunted dreams
The maze of narration leads to this path—
Summons the whispers of bushes that kept breathing and moving..—
Closer and closer..

In the silence— I sneak;
Someone screams,
(AAAAAAAHHHH!!!)
—Run and run; Never look back— For shadows are treacherous trolls,— Seducing temples—
Enshroud the wilderness to frighten the all grown..
—"I shall call you once more."

Suddenly, I tripped to the quarry
Serpents hissing; The Arachnids are stalking—
"Where is my fire?!"— I rattled to tend
One foot back— Murmurs chanting rituals to this goose
Spill embers! Spill embers!
Fiery torches cast my foes!
Now, I could escape.

No!— The ravens,
I shall not be abducted
Hastily, I blew my feet—To leap in sleek,— As to surpass the endless drear—
I am not a kin to your lair..

Hence, I was a fool
Befallen is me,—
When I stepped to the end side of knoll
This rebel is a victim of sheer torn scheme
Help me..
I need to find you..
Help me.. Please, help me..
Please..

A nowhere eagle swooped me from my lore
Bounce away from this pity storm,—
And let these wings fly to the morn
The lenient Stratus Clouds— Bolstering my spirit— Up here, there are no hostiles and skulls
That it declared to me, as well,— "Away from your madness— Perpetrators are attracted by insane vigor. Cease grubbling illusions!
You must seek to believe that it is there, and not unknown."
I conformed to my Savior.

"Find me..find me.."
It was more vivid and louder..
The glimpse of gables, I see now— with a Cross at its top
"My eagle, nest me here"
—"You are here..Enter within."

(GASPS)
Where am I?— I remember there were smoke and mounds;— Above me were clouds..
Wait, why are you smiling?
I shall pant— for I am petrified by all those obscured hollows,— Quite absurd?— Shake me instead
Now I ask you,—
"Who are you?"


—You found Me!—
Nightmares can devour the soul, and make ourselves lost forever..
This is overcoming death in the representation of dream sequence.
Mitch Prax May 2020
What hope did we have
of ever navigating
through all of this mist?

11:10 AM
10/5/20
Rick Warr Apr 2020
beautiful bluff
feathered in mist
silent and proud
moisture kissed
almost broke my knees getting to you
but now you’re a lover
whose company is missed
and coming home
rounding the curves
near your sea skirt
I look up
at your vertical mantle
with a loving heart
so glad to be living
in your embrace
love poem to the escarpment
Mitzi Ambrad Apr 2020
Peeping gold afar
Amidst the blue undertones
Sun's about to come.

Embraced by the mist
Kissed me goodbye as it lifts
Left me heartbroken.
The sun's coming out. It''s time to start anew as the morning mist leaves carrying all that ever was and leaving only a broken heart.
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
She is brighter than dawn
by Michael R. Burch

for Beth

There’s a light about her
like the moon through a mist:
a bright incandescence
with which she is blessed

and my heart to her light
like the tide now is pulled . . .
she is fair, O, and bright
like the moon silver-veiled.

There’s a fire within her
like the sun’s leaping forth
to lap up the darkness
of night from earth's hearth

and my eyes to her flame
like twin moths now are drawn
till my heart is consumed.
She is brighter than dawn.

Keywords/Tags: Love, Light, Dawn, Moon, Stars, Mist, Heart, Tide, Fair, Bright, Fire, Sun, Dark, Darkness, Night, Hearth, Earth, Flame, Moth, Moths, Meter, Rhyme, Traditional, Formal, Quatrains,
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
Remembrance
by Michael R. Burch

Remembrance like a river rises;
the rain of recollection falls;
vague memories, like vines, entangled,
cling to Time's collapsing walls.

The past is like a distant mist,
the future like a far-off haze,
the present half-distinct an hour
before it blurs with unseen days.

Published by Romantics Quarterly. Keywords/Tags: remembrance, memory, memories, recollection, time, rain, river, mist, haze, blurs, past, present, future
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
Mayflies
by Michael R. Burch

These standing stones have stood the test of time
but who are you
                             and what are you
                                                             and why?
As brief as mist, as transient, as pale ...
Inconsequential mayfly!

Perhaps the thought of love inspired hope?
Do midges love? Do stars bend down to see?
Do gods commend the kindnesses of ants
to aphids? Does one eel impress the sea?

Are mayflies missed by mountains? Do the stars
regret the glowworm’s stellar mimicry
the day it dies? Does not the world go on
as if it’s no great matter, not to be?

Life, to be sure, is nothing much to lose.
And yet somehow you’re everything to me.

Originally published by Clementine Unbound. Keywords/Tags: mayfly, mayflies, time, mist, transient, transience, pale, inconsequential, stars, sea, everything, A. E. Housman quote
mjad Mar 2020
he covers me in kisses
misting me in love
raindrops on every part
haiku?
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Sometimes the Dead
by Michael R. Burch

Sometimes we catch them out of the corners of our eyes—
     the pale dead.
          After they have fled
the gourds of their bodies, like escaping fragrances they rise.

Once they have become a cloud’s mist, sometimes like the rain
     they descend;
they appear, sometimes silver like laughter,
to gladden the hearts of men.

Sometimes like a pale gray fog, they drift
     unencumbered, yet lumbrously,
          as if over the sea
there was the lightest vapor even Atlas could not lift.

Sometimes they haunt our dreams like forgotten melodies
     only half-remembered.
          Though they lie dismembered
in black catacombs, sepulchers and dismal graves; although they have committed felonies,

yet they are us. Someday soon we will meet them in the graveyard dust
     blood-engorged, but never sated
          since Cain slew Abel.
But until we become them, let us steadfastly forget them, even as we know our children must ...

Keywords/Tags: pale, dead, shades, shadows, fragrance, mist, vapor, fog, rain, forgotten, melodies, dismembered, tombs, graves, catacombs, sepulchers, mausoleums, graveyard, dust
Next page