It is that my life
Grew strong this seedling.
Residue down when
Winter limbs knurling,
Naked claws the brash
Winter sky slow, soft
Scratches on itchy
Dusk’s knobby spine clouds.
But I in my fell
Passion scorched the dark
Night close, day wide bright
And set to this tree
Fire that consuming
Left blackened stump.
55 word poem
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8 comments:
Thank you for dropping by, Russell. It's my pleasure.
And your 55er seems to have a very interesting sentence structure, I'm still trying to figure it out lol...
Ahh three great poems Russel, particularly love serial sadness but great use of 55 words and both quite different
Thanks aristocrat! Enjoyed dropping by your blog too!
Thanks Sue! The last 55er is a metrical sonnet to boot! Glad you enjoyed Serial Sadness. I'm scaring myself with this confessional poetry.
I like the dark twist in this one. Well done again.
Have added it to the post.
Thanks .:A:.! Glad you could spot something sparkling in the dark!
wonderful! the clipped tone of the poem is in sync with the dark mood of it. its wonderful how you do it.
the second stanza is memerising in its pathos.
Thanks a lot for the great comments, Gulnaz! You can't imagine how good your words make me feel!
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