by Cassie M McNair
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Not rated by the Author.
Print Save Become a Fan
Here I sit against the window, pressed,
to watch the Sun tuck snugly into West.
Lies, the star of life wonít tell.
But, when it lies, it leads you well.
A crow, a saintly bird of dooms
tends gingerly to ebony plumes.
As darkness falls he takes to flight
and blending, disappears with night.
Caw caw! Caw caw! His voice is all thatís left.
Here I sit again, bereft.
My life was taken, oh so long ago.
I covered Death with roses of the snow.
A moment paused to see, to realize
the leaves will turn, the tides will fall to rise.
If a soulís devoid, if song and luster lack,
I must move on by never turning back.
Here I sit among the feverfew
to watch the Sun kiss East and drink the dew.
The fog will lift once more to mist the sky
to give it tears for when it needs to cry.
Want to review or comment on this
Click here to login!
Need a FREE Reader Membership?
Click here for your Membership!
|Reviewed by jude forese
|i like the double counterpoint of images and tonal quality to its flow ... nice!|
|Reviewed by Andy Turner (Reader)
|Great images and poetry told in a systematic intelligent way..|
|Reviewed by Jane Rodway
|I like the classic form of this, it does add to the way you use words, they really ooze feeling-the one line, which is my favorite in the poem, I wonder if the "the" would be better if it wasn't there, lol-the death/roses line, it seems like it jerks the flow off a bit, and this is so well-written, that is the only reason it stood out-who knows, just thought i would mention it:) Great writing, I have to track you ;)|
|Reviewed by Regis Auffray
|This is the kind of poetry to which I can most relate. It speaks to my soul, Cassie. Thank you for sharing this gift. Love and peace to you,