Post by sunsetfur on Feb 1, 2007 21:37:00 GMT -5
Here's a poem I wrote last year. I like it a lot, though it's definately not my best work. Most of my best poems are being held captive by my Language teacher. ;D
...THE FIRE,...
Dusty ash, blackened ground
Burnt fragments of the trees
The woeful cry of a crow breaks the silence
Lamenting for all that is now lost
Gone are the days of green, of
The sun, the bittersweet memories
Now nothings, burned with the shattered
Remnants of the forest
A gentle wind stirrs what is left
Of the once-fertile woods
It ruffles the pelts of the traveling animals
Crossing the river into the blackened despair
Even the brightest of pelts are
Dimmed with ash and soot, but
The most terrible sight is their eyes,
Dimmed with loss
A small fox gives a terrified cry
His mother hushes him, trying her best to
Comfort her son in the burned despair
Of the dead forest
Life is difficult, choked with smoke
And painful memories
Of how it once was
Before the fire
But time goes on, marching solemly
Through blackened, ashen days
Through the soot-stained snow of winter
The streams running black with ash in spring
But now, a young fox stalks
Through the trees, glistening with
Melted frost, still stained inky black
Searching for food to feed his starving mate and son
A brown shape he spots by a tree
A rabbit, the first
Since the fire
Quickly, he moves in for the kill
He, his mate, and his son eat well for the first time in so long
The prey has the scent of smoke, the
Ashen fur reminding all of the tragedy
That claimed all that held life
But now, as they eat, the foxes
Do not notice the sprigs of green blooming
From beneath the ash that has been
Carpeting the forest floor for so long
Now, they rejoice, they
Cherish the prey, gazing at the ruins of the trees
Reminders of loss and blackness
Memoirs stained with soot are soon to be new
The blacked trees soon crumble
To be replaced with small, new trees
Whispering in the wind with new promises
Of life after the fire
Yet the soot underneath the grass
The blackened logs and the land
Where no green can ever show now
Reminds all of the days of dusty ash
And of the fire
...THE FIRE,...
Dusty ash, blackened ground
Burnt fragments of the trees
The woeful cry of a crow breaks the silence
Lamenting for all that is now lost
Gone are the days of green, of
The sun, the bittersweet memories
Now nothings, burned with the shattered
Remnants of the forest
A gentle wind stirrs what is left
Of the once-fertile woods
It ruffles the pelts of the traveling animals
Crossing the river into the blackened despair
Even the brightest of pelts are
Dimmed with ash and soot, but
The most terrible sight is their eyes,
Dimmed with loss
A small fox gives a terrified cry
His mother hushes him, trying her best to
Comfort her son in the burned despair
Of the dead forest
Life is difficult, choked with smoke
And painful memories
Of how it once was
Before the fire
But time goes on, marching solemly
Through blackened, ashen days
Through the soot-stained snow of winter
The streams running black with ash in spring
But now, a young fox stalks
Through the trees, glistening with
Melted frost, still stained inky black
Searching for food to feed his starving mate and son
A brown shape he spots by a tree
A rabbit, the first
Since the fire
Quickly, he moves in for the kill
He, his mate, and his son eat well for the first time in so long
The prey has the scent of smoke, the
Ashen fur reminding all of the tragedy
That claimed all that held life
But now, as they eat, the foxes
Do not notice the sprigs of green blooming
From beneath the ash that has been
Carpeting the forest floor for so long
Now, they rejoice, they
Cherish the prey, gazing at the ruins of the trees
Reminders of loss and blackness
Memoirs stained with soot are soon to be new
The blacked trees soon crumble
To be replaced with small, new trees
Whispering in the wind with new promises
Of life after the fire
Yet the soot underneath the grass
The blackened logs and the land
Where no green can ever show now
Reminds all of the days of dusty ash
And of the fire
