Friday, May 20, 2011

This is an unusual poem for me... but it came to me very quickly one night and I sort of liked it. So here it is.

The blackened pier
sits lonely, still,
while one is dead
and one lies calling.
A deepened hush,
foreboding chill,
The sun soon leaves,
the night is falling.

Coldly broken,
sits his fellow,
memories lost
too soon to sever.
A life of hope was
once his aim,
but now his sight
is hopeful never.

Flowers are laid
on covered casket,
overcast rainclouds
soon to shower.
Earthly dreams
are neath death masked,
but paradise blooms
an open flower.

1 comment:

  1. Ohh, I like to imagine nice chilling images for these. It reminds me of the pictures Jane Eyre painted.