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Open Poetry #29
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Magnus
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Member Laureate
since 2001-10-10
Posts 14135
South Carolina, USA

0 posted 2003-10-20 08:32 PM


A withering vine, curling skyward upon a
trellis of memories.... now dying as a mind
drifts slowly and gentle  winds push
and twirl pictures kaleidoscopically
through a maze of neurons.

Draw the nectar to dry lips....bring the
course of raging blood to the billow of
sails...Walk the misted path of lacing
fog as rains paint the landscape in
a myriad of tears...

For centuries of toasted dust from
vineyards past lies upon the slim corked
lips.

And though dull the crystal etched,
destiny denies not the wandering
soul a toast....

before the misted path,   for
destiny whispers softly
upon the vine.


© Copyright 2003 Barry J. Tackett - All Rights Reserved
Greeneyes
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Member Rara Avis
since 2000-09-09
Posts 9903
In Your Poetic Mind
1 posted 2003-10-20 09:45 PM


before the misted path,   for
destiny whispers softly
upon the vine.''''
Sigh~ I love this... hugssss


Lauren~

Will the wind ever remember
the names it has blown in the past
with its crutch, its old age, and its
wisdom it whispers no this won't be the last

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