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Occurrence
| Open Poetry #15 |
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Occurrence |
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Gwendrina Junior Member
since 2001-08-21
Posts 33 |
The fresh streams ran by her, and murmured her moans. Sing willow, willow, willow Her salt tears fell from her and softened the stones. From Othello by Shakespeare  The wind saw her rise from the fragments of a fallen star. She rose into the sky - a shadow glittering like sun sparkles upon the lake. She ascended into the cool expanse, a voice chanting with the soft, plaintive pitch Of Desdemona’s willow song.. Her luminous wings grew like wild ferns against the gray driftwood of clouds- sprouting, spreading until the shimmering fibers dissolved into space. Then she was gone; and no one knew that she had come except the wind blowing from the mushroom caves and clam shells sucking on wet slices of sand. They had seen the death of a shooting star and its maidenly spirit dispersing the glimmer of a burnt-out myth. |
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| © Copyright 2001 Gwendrina - All Rights Reserved | |||
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ethome Member Patricius
since 2000-05-14
Posts 11858New Brunswick Canada |
Beautiful graphics to lead into this poem full of exceptional imaginative images! Well written! |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
This is fabulous... a wonderful write of mystic essence... very cool presentation and tie in to the classic introduction... suberb imagery in this as well. very well done poetess Gwendrina |
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Marge Tindal 
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384Florida's Foreverly Shores |
GwenDrina~ You write with such a lovely pen~ Delicate imagery brought to life~ Thank you for sharing~ ~*Marge*~ ~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~ |
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