Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Timing

My fingers felt so light at the dawn
They could weave a thousand dresses,
on a thousand little rotating hips

Eternity’s threshold refused
to open up to me
the garden of earthly delights

So my freehand prose crept
and crawled up the wall,
like so much leafy ivy

10 comments:

human being said...

a sublime compensation for an unsatisfied yearning... poetry... art!
...giving soul (ivy) the power to transpass inhibitions (wall)...

images... so lush and lively...
beauuuuutiful!

human being said...

'freehand prose' was a wow!

Hannah Miet said...

you captured

morning

on its cusp

of beauty.

Brian said...

I enjoyed reading that this morning. Thanks!

Jenny Enochsson said...

Elegantly created. An effortless musical flow throughout the whole poem. Nice twirling feeling.

The Scrybe said...

Hey there all, thank you so much for your comments :)

Francis Scudellari said...

Very lovely images.

Dianne said...

I like this one very much. I can see and feel and live in it.
Fun to read your work!
Thanks for visiting my site.
Dianne

The Scrybe said...

:)

Claude Limoges said...

Beautiful. Really, very exquisite.