Not a biblical poem, if that's what you're thinking.


A Sunday Drive When The River Runs Red

Have you taken any time
To cross the springs on tuesday
And come out smelling like roses
Their scent an odor fume
Wednesday morning brings good tidings
On a gust of foggy air
The door of dawnlight slowly closes
Fades away to silent bloom

Thursday afternoon is hazy
You remember many fingers
Wrapped around your pale wrist
Your arm asleep inside your chest
The relief of sudden friday
With its satin silky bosom
Leans apon you in the mist
And you are motionless at best

Saturday is quite the morrow
Strolling through the shades of green
They stand each up and smile starlet
In the dying of the day
It is this, that on the sunday
Retributed on the road
The tired sun yawns rays of scarlet
In the river, to the bay



Poetry by weirdzarun
Read 447 times
Written on 2007-03-24 at 08:03

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kath
a week that is begun in the springs and ended and begun in the river ... a circle ... as life

beautiful ... and well done ..

I like your style of writing very much it has body and spirit tied closely together in a way I like

best wishes
katherine
2007-03-24