Open Poetry #7 |
The moon has spilled the silver flour... (repost) |
Master Senior Member
since 1999-08-18
Posts 1867Boston, MA |
The moon has spilled the silver flour The pale clouds grimly sneezed Late August, covered up in mist Arose from sleep before the cock Could publicize the needed hour. Two ashen birches in a twist Shook off the ravens and the flock Arose from branches with a holler. And sultry rays, sprung up askew Reflecting off the morning puddles. The grass would gather into huddles To share the sacred drops of dew. All was awake and only you Were still in slumber. Two small shoes Lied carelessly below your bed. And to this day, I still regret Not waking you to see the splendor. I let you sleep, my precious muse, And now in sadness of September There’s nothing there to reproduce. "I will not whole die, my soul in sacred lyre, will outlive my dust and will escape decay, And in the moonlit sphere, my glory will not tire As long as poets still remain" A. Pushkin |
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© Copyright 2000 Andrey Kneller - All Rights Reserved | |||
Lost Dreamer Member Elite
since 1999-06-20
Posts 2464Somewhere near the Rainbow |
This is precious, I love it. |
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A Romantic Heart Member Ascendant
since 1999-09-03
Posts 5496Forever In Your Heart |
This was very touching! loved it! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Now may I say, "Mercy, 'O Master"? Haunting portrait, beautiful, like fog in a swampy, mystic, bayou...thank you, sir... |
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Master Senior Member
since 1999-08-18
Posts 1867Boston, MA |
Thank you everyone, Serenity, you make it sound like I'm torturing you... (smile) |
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lucky Senior Member
since 2000-01-17
Posts 1601Idaho |
I'm sure glad you dug this up, I have to bump it to the top, my wife has just got to see this. 'tis good. |
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Master Senior Member
since 1999-08-18
Posts 1867Boston, MA |
Thank you Lucky! Glad you liked it! |
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