Thursday, May 16, 2013

My verse is...


...a child’s first step

And it is a walk on the moon

My verse is a bitter-sweet remedy

That springs from a troubled heart

My verse is a pilgrim in a strange land

And it is an open door

My verse is all that I have done

And all I have failed to do

My verse is a silver birch

And it is a red bud tree

That changes from tender purple

To deep and fulfilling scarlet

My verse is a sleepless night

A train whistle calling me back

My verse is a rising sail

Awaiting the breath of dawn




Live for the Love of it,
The Happy Amateur

Prompted by Wordgathering

4 comments:

  1. It's addictive, isn't it? I could have gone on for quite a while with mine! I particularly like the opening and closing pair of lines and the sensory imagery that works through your verses.

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    1. Thank you for visiting me, Margo. Yes, it IS addictive :-) I thought I'd have trouble finding metaphors, instead I had to resist the temptation of writing a really long poem.

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  2. I can so relate to "My verse is a sleepless night". I keep a small notebook by my bedside as I often wake up in the middle of the night with my muse rattling off stuff that I should remember! A wonderful poem that you've written here. Well done.

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