"medow" poems
A sea of green
Crawling towards Heaven
Swaying and folding
Against itself
Budding trees surrounding
Their branches tipped
With the bright green sprouts
Of new life begun
And old life broken
A pond of silk
Luminous and pure
Floats in the middle
Ripples dancing in its water
As a cliff overhangs
The waterfall falling
Unconnected to the earth
The sea of green
Has become the sea of gold
As once green leaves
Begin to fall
Unto the earth
Leaving the willow trees
With nothing
But swaying branches
The waterfall reflects
A rainbow cast by
The full Harvest Moon
Shining in its resplendent form
The ripples waltz
Never leaving the tempo
Set forth by the Creator
Long before their own time
The grass lays frozen
Buried beneath
White powder
As it falls from a clear sky
The trees stand bare
Their leaves falling
Falling to the broken earth
The broken skin of the meadow
The pond of silk
Lays cold and dead
The ripples gone
Until the night is done
The waterfall lies still
The beads of water
Exactly where they were
When the winter had come again
Nov 18, 2011
Nov 18, 2011 at 8:07 PM UTC
My belly is warm
My legs feel like jello
My mouths full of pudding
while i sit in a medow
My eyes are half mast
My limbs are askew
Clouds roll by and,
I don't think of you.
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 2:13 AM UTC
If I were a stone
I would not believe
that the medow
looks after the rose.
To be hardened
is to be muted.
Any stone that
does not tumble
will not shine.
The truth is that
freedom comes from
aching hearts,
and full moons.
Lonely roses hidden
behind tall blades
of grass.
It's so good
to see you thrive
where you thought
you might not
have survived.
Aug 22, 2020
Aug 22, 2020 at 12:00 PM UTC
Harpsichord melodies sing
Upon a butterflies wings
As from flower to medow it now flies
Whilst the summer skies look down
Darting on the winds of time
Sailing gliding flying high
Stopping by the poppy so red
Resting wing's on the flower bed
Onto the next on a song from the trees
Weeping willows bend with ease
Natures brook babbles along
And still she flies with wings of love
And when the moon appears high at dusk
Stillness reaches out to all
Rest little butterfly tired and spent
For the land will be yours when day break falls
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 5:58 AM UTC
often
i like to imagine sitting in a medow of flowers
of all sorts of kinds
and colors
and being happy
with you
just like
how a flower isnt happy without sunlight
i am the flower
you are the sunlight
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 7:10 PM UTC
Take me to the middle of a medow lay me softly down. Whisper softly in my ear that you love me as we gaze at the stars.
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 11:34 AM UTC