Mourn

I mourn the morning
with all its pink
dipped ink pictures
and choristers
chiming the hour





Etch me a sketch
of trees black
in the breeze
as branches
snap back
and lack of sleep
seeps into pools






Bring back the night
Its dark then
like shadows

How I mourn
the morning




Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 542 times
Written on 2010-04-22 at 20:13

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John Ashleigh
A very nice poem, I enjoyed reading this. Please, keep sharing.

Regards,
John.
2010-11-27


NicholasG
As Oscar Wilde said, " A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world."
xox :-)
2010-04-23


shells
It sounds like a beautifully penned poem of an insomniac. I've been in that middle stanza.
2010-04-23