The tiny kitten on the porch next door
paws a yarn of thread,
and I watch her tug at a lone strand
from here where I stand,
It is a beautiful sight,
this cat and her thread
now wrapped complicatedly around her head
I stifle a giggle,
watch her instead
I couldn't laugh at her tangled state
I am tangled up in you myself,
I love the thread from which you are made
and after all these years, you are still wrapped complicatedly around my heart,
around my head.
African Sunrise
Don't be deceived by the tears in her eyes, Africa weeps in awe of her sunrise..
The inside story...
- ~ScotchBiscuits~
- I love the way the old oak trees hang sadly over a tiny street in Savannah, bending in the wind so that tomorrow when I return they will still be standing, with moss hanging from the branches like the grey beards of an old man. I love the way they bend over as though bowing their heads to pray, faithfully through every season. I like to tell people about these old oaks, about how amazing they are, but what impresses me the most, is that generally urban folk are really not impressed at all.
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6 comments:
1st i have writers block.
No good poem can come out o me.
and then you write something so amazing.
I am tangled in you...you are wrapped around my heart...absolutely love this! very nice poem..I love the simplicity and truth of this.
Wow! Loves binding power does not loses its grip, if its real!.
Nice prose
reading the poems again...
wowowowowwow! i like
You write beautifully and get out of my head already no no definitely kidding always stay always haha xoxo
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