Friday, July 8, 2011

July My Winter



Silence whispers sonnets sung of summers passed

Weathered feathered dusty quill tips lay alone

Swollen eyelids secret hide behind dark glass

Barren pages blaring white bleach purged of groans

Purple curtains darkly tied forbid light’s pass

Missing laughter’s purring smile beneath crushed stone

July
My winter
I drink mint tea
And listen
To her sing

Silence whispers sonnets sung of summers passed

12 comments:

Claudia said...

ha yes - the summers passed sonnets..i hear them - and they can get horribly bluesy every once and a while...i usually drink fennel tea then..i like the mood you paint henry - and welcome back

dk said...

How so very hauntingly melancholy. Love it.
dk

Bonnie Zieman, M.Ed. said...

You touch many chords of recognition here. Love your line, "Silence whispers sonnets sung of summers passed". Just beautiful.

(also a montrealer :-)

Henry Clemmons said...

Bonnie, I loved that piece I selected of yours because of the green lips. Excllent.

hedgewitch said...

Love the alliteration, and the short but dense and rich lines. And the mint tea, which I happen to be drinking at the moment. esp like "barren pages blaring white bleach purged of groans" --there's a whole morning for me in that one, staring at a notebook.

Brian Miller said...

nice alit henry...and the offbeat stanza that starts with July...frickin awesome man...some really great lines in there as well...

Sheila said...

hmmm...sounds like someone is missed a great deal. I feel tugs on my heart strings with this one.

lucychili said...

listening to winter's song

Louise said...

This was fabulous to read! I really enjoyed it, thanks!

Unknown said...

How is it that bright hot summer days can sometimes feel as dark as deepest winter? You captured the essence of that mood, Henry.

Linda Bob Grifins Korbetis Hall said...

smart twists ...

enjoyed the whole piece, well done.

visiting from poets untied,

invite you to join poets rally today:

http://thursdaypoetsrallypoetry.blogspot.com/

bless your day.

Anonymous said...

A beautiful piece Henry. Wonderfully rich and engaging. // Peter.

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

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