Wind
roars through the valley,
the leaves cling to their trees,
holding on for dear life.
But the wind is too strong,
and soon they are lost to the storm.
Rain pelts anything reachable,
thunder scares away everything else.
The squirrels hide in their nests,
curled up with eyes squeezed shut.
Terror fills every inch of their bodies
but there is nothing to be done.
Only to wait,
til the storm passes.
the winter makes me so happy
the snow hanging in the trees
the cold biting at you
i love it
oh Icarus, you poor thing.
fell in love with the sun, the sky-
paid the price, i suppose.
why do we always pay the price for love?
Orpheus, lonesome poet,
lost his love because he wanted to tell her they'd made it.
In my attic I keep my heart.
I hold it there, safe amidst pillows, blankets and childhood stuffed animals.
When I make things, I break off a piece of my heart,
and sew it into pillows,
Comments
This poem is perfectly constructed. Not a word feels out of place. You capture a snap shot of a moment... and the wind moving through that moment!
Thank you so much! This is my first published work so that means a lot.
Congratulations on your first publication! I can't wait to read more from you!
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