SVETLANA
Green rose fire, water walking
Desire shrouding latent innocence.
Soul claws shredding thoughts before formed.
My numb fingers reach the feather.
Slim crystal notes peal my heart.
You turn to me and already I ask,
again?
SVETLANA
Green rose fire, water walking
Desire shrouding latent innocence.
Soul claws shredding thoughts before formed.
My numb fingers reach the feather.
Slim crystal notes peal my heart.
You turn to me and already I ask,
again?
Poetry is what gets lost in translation.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
Title | Comments | Submitted |
---|---|---|
Title | Comments | Submitted |
SVETLANA | 0 | 06/06/2009 |
Do You, Too | 0 | 03/11/2009 |
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.