fallgarden

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  • Nature

    fallgarden
    the cold wind sings a mournful song--of skin kissed by wamth and light--jewels of morning dew--butterflies in aimless flight---honeysuckle from the shade--tulips kneeing before the rain--as silent sentinels offer golden leaves --ransom  for a summer's day

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    itolduso’s Poems (11)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    at 57 0 06/21/2009
    inspiration 1 06/21/2009
    clouds 0 06/21/2009
    yesterday's hero 1 06/19/2009
    delusion 1 06/19/2009
    western dream 1 06/19/2009
    cowgirl sings the blues 0 05/20/2009
    streets 0 05/20/2009
    la. night 0 05/20/2009
    daybreak on the bayou 0 05/20/2009
    fallgarden 0 05/20/2009

    itolduso’s Friends (3)

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