Monday, May 2, 2011

Weary (One Stop Poetry; blank verse NOT) Revisd

Image by Theo Dapore

Where are my robins?
Mornings I reach with spindly,
rigid limbs to bleached skies,
searching strength, hope of return,
lashed by winter’s rejection.
Imprisoned in cell pods red tattooed ink,
hope for restoration flutters blue - green redemption,
orange breasted ballets;
Oh, the chorus of my babies and not frigid flat notes of taunting winds.  Comeback, my robins, and nest within my arms. I’m weary this lonely season.


Kim Nelson said...

Our yearning for spring and it's reinvigorating glory is fully captured here.

Kerry O'Connor said...

Just beautiful - such colour, imagery and yearning.

Matt Coughlan said...

The suffering is tangible in this poem.

Good work!

Sally J said...

sadness and loneliness come across strongly in this

Greyscale Territory said...

A lonely longing beautifully explored through the chilled worlds that stubbornly deny the emergence of Spring's relief!

Beachanny said...

This is a vivid colorful exploration in verse; however it is clearly not blank verse. This is truly free verse and well written free verse but free verse all the same. Thanks for linking and I hope this helps.

Reflections said...

Love the imagery and colorful feel to the piece.

Doc FTSE said...

Well chosen imagery and a fine poem.

I'm Just a Man (Recording Experiment ... I can't sing)

I am in the mood to change my tree to a cubic version.