evermore
she haunts the same places
repeatedly assimilating
each glistening detail
longing to feel
connected
I can only surmise that
she shall continue
pensively
until
when seeing the sun rise
on her day
glory unfolds earthwide
as she steps inside
arms enfolding her
evermore
undoubtedly meant
to protect her
from the vagaries
of solitude
The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.
Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Choices | 0 | 06/21/2009 |
| WONDER | 0 | 06/21/2009 |
| LOST IN DREAMS | 0 | 06/21/2009 |
| Intangible Responses | 0 | 06/19/2009 |
| Silly Simon | 1 | 06/18/2009 |
| Bermuda Grass | 2 | 06/16/2009 |
| evermore | 0 | 06/17/2009 |
| Butterflies | 1 | 06/16/2009 |
| leaves and grass | 0 | 06/04/2009 |
| ground frogs | 0 | 06/19/2009 |
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.