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Seed-beds

Posted by celticman on August 6, 2011 - 13:23

The slow dance
A little one’s need
Hope watered by tantrums
And tears of time
Not graying, just gone
I have no ears for sorrow
Only a face full of grief
Claustrophobic lips sealed
Pleading prayer pegs
Buried in my heart
A grotesque map of life
Wrapped in a shroud
Of darkness at rest

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Comments

skinner_jennifer | August 6, 2011 - 14:37

This is great celticman, a true poem from the heart.

Jenny.

celticman | August 6, 2011 - 15:40

cheers Jenny

Florian | August 6, 2011 - 15:42

Enjoyed this, nicely done.

MistakenMagic | August 6, 2011 - 17:02

"Pleading prayer pegs" - love this line, celticman. An almost poem but more than brilliant!

Magic xxx

celticman | August 6, 2011 - 17:30

Cheers Florian and MM. One day I'll manage a poem of your standards.

Highhat | August 7, 2011 - 03:51

You are really good at this Celtic- I admire your efforts- I especially like the "Pleading prayer pegs" line excellent- well done

;)Pia

shoe | August 7, 2011 - 11:21

I like the word choices and the ambiance of the piece,(though some of it is over my head I admit) and I like the last two lines especially, I found the capitals on the start of every line a bit distracting, maybe I'm not reading it right,

Cheers

celticman | August 8, 2011 - 18:32

Thanks for reading Shoe and Richard. I don't think this is poetry, more an ordering of words. Sometimes inspiration can take us to strange places. One day I will write a poem...one day.

Highhat | August 8, 2011 - 19:05

I'm sneaking this in here Celtic- where else-?
http://www.abctales.com/story/thomas-frye/numbers-clay