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Open Poetry #27
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Honeybunch
Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115
South Africa

0 posted 2003-07-11 06:12 PM


The season was wrong, the string too long,
and I saw it was new, handmade in blue,
imperfect in style but destined to fly
beyond and above my inadequate view.

Into the wind ran a young, friendly, boy  
over pebbles and stones and dusty potholes
twisting and turning, bending the rules,
unfinished with doubt and believing in life.  

Not humbled, he’s proud, extended he soars  
unrestrained by the tail of past history
and he flew into life like a human in flight
till landing at last in the form of a man.

Today in the sand, a broken kite, little strands,
lie scattered and spread beneath weary feet  
but I look up above – “What’s that in the sky?”
and I ask, “Is it new, handmade in blue?”  


© Copyright 2003 Helen - All Rights Reserved
Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049
California
1 posted 2003-07-11 06:22 PM


Helen....I really enjoy your poetry.  It is so deep and wise.  I think there will always be kites, as long as there is hope.  Or is it, there will always be hope as long as there are kites?
Honeybunch
Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115
South Africa
2 posted 2003-07-11 06:28 PM


Thank you so much, Martie.  They say wisdom comes with age but, hell, I'd much rather be young again!  
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