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annh 6d
Whispering
t r a i l s
of light-glazed ephemera
w      a      f      t
from plain to hills;

*G i l d e d*
grams of silken
f+r+a+g+m+e+n+t+s
warm with pine
and noon.

Sunlight
p i t t e r - p a t t e r s ,
D a N c E  S t E p P i N g
the length
of a polo field.

‘Is not this a true autumn day? Just the still melancholy that
I love - that makes life and nature harmonise.’
- George Eliot
Amanda Apr 10
I hear whispering outside
The wind as your name is cried
My company on these nights so cold
Rhythmic song keeping my hand to hold
I miss you, and everything I hear or see reminds me of you somehow.
In the Whispering Night
by Michael R. Burch

for George King

In the whispering night, when the stars bend low
till the hills ignite to a shining flame,
when a shower of meteors streaks the sky,
and the lilies sigh in their beds, for shame,
we must steal our souls, as they once were stolen,
and gather our vigor, and all our intent.
We must heave our bodies to some violent ocean
and laugh as they shatter, and never repent.
We must dance in the darkness as stars dance before us,
soar, Soar! through the night on a butterfly's breeze:
blown high, upward-yearning, twin spirits returning
to the world of resplendence from which we were seized.

Published in Songs of Innocence (Issue 3, Spring 2000), Romantics Quarterly (Vol. II, Issue IV, Winter 2003)

Keywords/Tags: romantic, romanticism, whispering, night, stars, hills, flame, meteors, sky, lilies, shame, souls, stolen, ocean, sea, butterfly, breeze, twin, spirits, returning, heaven, resplendence
Nina Nov 2019
When trees cry,
And leaves whisper their g
                                     o                  
                                                     o
                                                d
                                                           b
                                                                   y
                                                    e
I saw a promise
In a single stare
eyes whispering with certainty
a feeling we both could share.
solc liveson Jun 2019
ran into a whispering angel at the cemetery today,
customary to have a small ceremony
when the monument finished,
the grave now well and truly marked,
an unveiling held, the kaddish said,
a small stone
placed upon the monument,
a five thousand year old tradition,

started by Jacob

we line up to place our rock of ages goodbye token,
an opportunity to angel whisper one last goodbye,
but good bye is not on my mind,
no, my own approaching deceasing dead,
for the pains come regular now
in the places that means trouble ahead,
and no one knows but me

so to my friend Al,
who once asked me
where do the poems, the words, come from,
I whisper in your six feet underground ears,
though I swear I hear ya laughing both
right behind me both
at your jokes, and at me,

“see ya soon, buddy, see ya soon”
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/376358/with-each-passing-poem/

https://www.shiva.com/learning-center/death-and-mourning/unveiling/
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