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I still dream of long, beaten pathways
With orange leaves on sand and stone;
The smell of the rain, and its soft kiss upon me;
The chill of winter creeping into my bones.
And there's still time for long, quiet wanderings,
And hopes climbing high, like the clouds from my cup.
The withered, white light of these soft, dewy mornings--
The fog closing in that opens me up.
I still dream of long, beaten pathways
With orange leaves on sand and stone;
The smell of the rain, and its soft kiss upon me;
The chill of winter creeping into my bones.
You are the leaves, spilled paint on concrete.
I am my bones; I cannot escape.
I travel this path in continuous autumn,
But winter is here now and taking its shape.
- by T0xic Lov3 |
- Holiday Poem Contest
- | Submitted on 12/11/2008 |
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- Title: Orange leaves
- Artist: T0xic Lov3
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Description:
Poem i thought of as I waited in the hospital courtyard watching the trees, waiting for my grandma's surgery to be over.
- Date: 12/11/2008
- Tags: orange leaves
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Comments (3 Comments)
- account examiner2005 - 08/01/2009
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dats was cool and u expressed it in a kool way
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- Vampyra6663 - 04/18/2009
- I love the imagery
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- Emily619916 - 02/08/2009
- cool surprised
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