It calls
Reflection:Nature intrugues me to write outside the ordinary. I tend to see a side of poetry that I thought didn't exsist. My inspiration for this poem was my nature observation and how it told a story about my life.
This place is calling to a lonely soul
With a favored gesture it has said hello.
The wind whispering in her ear so delicately
Like a mother’s soft hand rubbing away the pain.
She sees this as a haven to new beginnings
Now letting the piles of fallen memories
Float past her honey eyes just so malleably.
As she touches the bristle bark so hesitantly,
Feeling it scratching at her scaly skin
A sensation of warmth travels through her shriveled veins.
Her deathly, cold arms wrap around the bare tree,
And she grins with joy as her toes become numb.
She glances into the blanket blue sky,
As it reminds her of plush pillows puffed to perfection,
She awaits another day in her sanctuary.
Reflection:Nature intrugues me to write outside the ordinary. I tend to see a side of poetry that I thought didn't exsist. My inspiration for this poem was my nature observation and how it told a story about my life.
This place is calling to a lonely soul
With a favored gesture it has said hello.
The wind whispering in her ear so delicately
Like a mother’s soft hand rubbing away the pain.
She sees this as a haven to new beginnings
Now letting the piles of fallen memories
Float past her honey eyes just so malleably.
As she touches the bristle bark so hesitantly,
Feeling it scratching at her scaly skin
A sensation of warmth travels through her shriveled veins.
Her deathly, cold arms wrap around the bare tree,
And she grins with joy as her toes become numb.
She glances into the blanket blue sky,
As it reminds her of plush pillows puffed to perfection,
She awaits another day in her sanctuary.