Poetry. . . or my sad little attempt at it.
The mourning mist lies heavy, holding fast
To hardened earth and starkly stiffened blades
Of grass whose green no longer lives but fades
As all succumbs to winter's deadly grasp.
To hardened earth and starkly stiffened blades
Of grass whose green no longer lives but fades
As all succumbs to winter's deadly grasp.
posted by em²ile² @ 3:32 PM
7 Comments:
Cool!
*Applause*
"mourning mist"- awesome.
Sounds good to me, Emmilee. I have no formal poetry training though, just years of reading Emily Dickenson. I hope you are well, it seems you are busy with school, not much time for posting on your blog, eh? I hope you are learning much and having fun too!
Long time, Em.
-Guess Who
Is that part of a larger poem?
The silvered western winds, wafting
Gently under Sol's great golden wings
The dusty ashes of what were
A thousand glorious phantoms of the Spring
While Luna watches overhead
The regal breezes blow their dirge
With regalia worthy of the dead:
The moonbeams o'er time's grave converge
Ah. Nevermind, didn't see the "or my sad attempt at it". Guess I'm thinking of something completely different.
-T.N.O.
Oh, so it IS you...where have you been all this time?
Here and there, in many places doing many things but at sadly very different times. You know how the saying goes..."Don't meddle in the affairs of wizards..."
In fact, the technology part of life has been rather slow lately. I did, however, attend a banquet recently and obtained an award of $3500 for school. Now I have... oh... about... *counts on fingers* $28,500-$38,500 to go. Too bad I'm not an alchemist with a whole lot of lead to turn into gold. Maybe I should ask Radagast or Flamel.
Anyway, I have classics in ten minutes with two unfinished physics problems to... well... finish. So I'll hear from you soon if this electronic road brings us together. 'Till then, I remain,
-The Nameless One
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