Not quite,
but close.
A shade off,
a soft blur,
Almost there,
but waiting,
somewhere between
yes and maybe.
Ish
a gentle pause
that lets you linger
just a little longer.
Posted in response to the challenge Writing Workshop: Free Verse Poetry.
Meeting you is like spring water reflecting pear blossoms,
Seeing you is like the chirping of cicadas accompanying the summer,
Thinking of you is like a thousand arrows piercing my heart,
Some people vote, but never think,
Their choices shallow, quick to sink.
They cheer and boast, with voices loud,
But wisdom’s lost inside the crowd.
The sun hangs high, a golden blaze,
Filling the sky with unblinking gaze.
It watches over the land, fierce and bold,
Turning the ground to burnished gold.
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