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Unfortunate
The hours are at their quickest
When pleasure we do taste
Dawn graces children with Her light,
With far too curt a haste
O, how the ticks grow lazy
When our feet the flames now feel
A slim hand, ever-slower,
Our rosy skin does peel
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This article has 2 comments.
Wit, Life, and Meaning; all woven into your poetry so skilfully that I often wonder at the quality of your spirit.
Know that there's one fellow who spends his time contemplating your words, and will that he may come to understand them as well as enjoy them.
How do you write poetry? With your mind or your heart? Or both, but separately? Or both, as one?
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Your kind words are far too beautiful for the likes of my poetry! But I thank you oh-so deeply-- your care and interest truly encourage me.
This is a very interesting question... I believe that I write foremost using my heart. In fact, my head rarely even comes into play at all! Sometimes I reread poems I have written, and my mind is so confused, because I often write them without thinking. Because of this, I am often afraid that they must come out looking like garbled nonsense to other people. I write what I feel, for I think more with my soul than with my brain. How, Silentraven, do you write? :)