Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#smcm
Traveling (with Frost) down the lightly trodden path, with shoed soles sauntering over thawed earth, twisting down the narrow trail, away from the prying eyes of tour guides— Encompassed by flowery heads who mirror the sun, who burst forth with fluorescent green necks craning from the dirt, delineating our path in cascades of springing splendor. Sensing the ostinato of ambulant waters crescendo, we soon break from the budding foliage— To be greeted by gentle winds and the lapping of placid waves who break onto the languid shore onto shoed and socked feet, who sense holy ground and immediately kick off their bindings— To sink into the earth, and gritty sand reaching up between toes; the water deceptively inviting, is greeted with delightful shrieks in its refreshing chill. Secluded in our cove, we gaze over the waters where to our right rests a breathing reconstruction of the Dove; we stand awed before these waters both the settler and the native. What gods were praised on these lands, and in these woods, and in these skies, and in these waters? And on March 25, 1634, in the promising onset of spring, what had they to sing in the calm airs as the settlers crossed the threshold of the Potomac? She whispers, “Funny how the water appears green on the shore, and clear on the river.” --St. Mary's City, March 10, 2016.
0
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 11:48 PM UTC
Daffodil Gulch
Take me by the hand, see me through your placid garden. Walk with me, St. Mary's. March me in time to your rhythm; let me wield the mallet that beats your drum. Sing to me, St. Mary's. String my sole into the primordial web within the black walnut tree. Lay with me, St. Mary's. Close my eyes and tilt me back; dip me into the murky pond. Baptize me, St. Mary's. Take me down to the fiery shoreline; we'll linger beneath the countenance of the rugged cross. Crucify me, St. Mary's. Sit me by your mystic grave, cast a silent earthy veil over me. Bury me, St. Mary's. Chip me from the rock, free me of these shackles, rocket me into the heavens. Liberate me, St. Mary's.
0
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 7:15 PM UTC
The Eighth Wonder