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Bells Of Christmas.
| Open Poetry #26 |
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Bells Of Christmas. |
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Goldenrose Member Elite
since 2003-05-30
Posts 3665
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Rising sun,illumintaes the new Christmas morning. Shiniing high above the houses of childrens dreams. Ringing bells peel out and rejoice the coming of the saviour. For the birds there is no change, still they search for food, still they call their chattering calls. Sitting, staring at the landscape of fields and the wind blown, wrinkled rutted lake, i think of how many yuletide mornings it has seen. Different people down the years, have gazed at a similar landscape. Now they are no more than a sigh on the wind, this landscape outlives everyone, but is our only precious one. Blackbirds like shadows skulking under trees, mallards bob on the water like floats.Tits flit and call, for this i am glad, they are my only companions, alone. winter wind washes over me knawing at my ears and fingers, as i study spectral black trees, seamingly dead. Walking through the wind, the smell of decay assaults my senses, soil, dead leaves, fungus filled branches, invade my nostrils, unanounced. Rattling fielfares and mistle thrushes, hop from tree to tree, free in this steel trap of winter. Evergreen trees and ivy add colour to the dull browns of the woodland, a dead golden bronze sapling is beauty tinged with sadness. Ticking robins, their scarlet red breats burning brightly in the winter sun, are special today to people walking by. To me they are special any day. |
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| © Copyright 2003 P.D - All Rights Reserved | |||
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the_loner_23 Member Ascendant
since 2002-06-08
Posts 5479Jacksonville, Florida, USA |
This poem speaks truth Cold hands means a warm heart |
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