"estray" poems
What shape so furtive steals along the dim
Bleak street, barren of throngs, this day of June;
This day of rest, when all the roses swoon
In Attic vales where dryads wait for him?
What sylvan this, and what the stranger whim
That lured him here this golden afternoon;
Ways where the dusk has fallen oversoon
In the deep canyon, torrentless and grim?
Great Pan is far, O mad estray, and these
Bare walls that leap to heaven and hide the skies
Are fanes men rear to other deities;
Far to the east the haunted woodland lies,
And cloudless still, from cyclad-dotted seas,
Hymettus and the hills of Hellas rise.
4.4k
he,who i like
though so crazythough so personal,
I now suspect thats not all,
I now suspect that Im about to fall for something feirce I cannot say,
for because of him I have gone estray thinking of me,
or i with him,
if I was forward with the truth
would he say he could feel the same way
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 7:47 PM UTC
Like the flower that sprouts in April
And buds in early May
To rise up to the golden sun
And bloom on a bright June day
I rose up to your golden light
in search for something more
yet all I found was nothing, even down to your core
Your empty promises wilted me
Like a flame to a burning match
Still I grapsed on for the life of me
when you hardly stayed attached
So as fall came around the corner
my leaves had blown estray
even as a small seed I still waited
to see if you'd be back the next day
but soon enough it got colder
and clouds blocked your radiant light
so as I fell dormant, in powdered snow
I watched you trail out of sight.
As March soon came into view, the ice melted into rain
the soil blessed me with new roots
My petals felt new, though they were the same
Letting go brought pain in the moment
and there's no way of knowing when,
You too will have your spring
and you too will start again.
Feb 18, 2020
Feb 18, 2020 at 11:48 AM UTC