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P e n c h a n t T a s t e
ballad empty
crawled through
fingers of day
the blue hue
and wet wave
coarse rest
sitting on the
bench with
steaming coffee
while slabs of
office walls
threw the sharp
light and tanned
our disinterest
Lost bliss
in the hot tonic
and that wind
from the cold lake
beyond the
wheat towers
settled our
restless
hearts
and the steady
thrum of the cities
heartbeat
rose up beneath
us
Editing stage:
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Comments
Starlight
Sun, 2012-04-29 18:51
Simply pleasing
and brilliant! wonderful placement and imagery. i adore this.
Esker
Sun, 2012-04-29 20:29
Thanks Starlight
Other poets (Lonnie and Judyanne)
had enquired of the words but liked them
the flow but it was not for understanding
really that was me building sculptures
of words
so I did this one fast and off the cuff
Orgamish and Eskerish
and its a sucess
Thank You!