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Open Poetry #36
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Memories
| Open Poetry #36 |
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Memories |
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Honeybunch Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115South Africa 
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Oh, this land is thirsty; my garden grows no rose and all I do is kick up the dust of memory and it rises to my eyes so many times I find to hasten my retreat from all I once believed but only partly so until winter is complete. Past crackles underfoot in resist of disavowal, the sun says, “Look at me – still and always here” while the blue, so blue, of sky shoots darts into my heart like cupid in the mystical “everything’s alright” signs and seals a pact before love becomes a fact. The sky is writing volumes no one can ever read when dust overlays the budding of new growth but soon the clouds, the rain, the love, spring, summer, and the sweating out of all the little things … until the crackle underfoot of brand new memories. Oh, this land is thirsty; my body holds no soul, and all I do is pick up the memory of a rose! Helen / 24 July 2005 (... and memories of the blue pages that keep me coming back) |
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| © Copyright 2005 Helen - All Rights Reserved | |||
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redheart angrybraids Member
since 2000-04-16
Posts 410honolulu, hawaii |
this poem is so passionat in its moment it is beatiful kindly, amelia |
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Honeybunch Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115South Africa |
Thank you Amelia. Passion, I guess, is the mainstay of life because without it there'd never be a summer ... of love! |
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