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.

8 comments:

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.