My nose met with
the smell of water on river rocks
awakening in me a vibration
as that of spring.
In the five o'clock hour I will wait,
watching the sun stay near me longer
holding its last rays in my eager hands.
The damp protective smell of winter
is leaving now from my sheets
and the flighty throes of spring
are embedding themselves in the paint on my walls.
When curtains flutter
I'll emerge
dressed for a birth.
Author notes
Water on rocks smells like rain, even if it's not.
Does this work?
Comments
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the snow slowly drips off the mountins to the spring our nose can smell. The beauty of comming spring. very nice! It was beautiful
great write
language: 4, rhythm: 3, subject: 5, tone: 3, form: 4.
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Very nice job...
Nienna, I am impressed. Earlier today I was thinking about a poem that described the arrival of spring. Even though this was a cold and windy day here, you can feel spring is ready to bust through the ice. I obviously did not come up with anything I took any satisfaction in. Now I read this and I see someone achieving that goal in such a cool way. I love this poem... and I appreciate it even more after my futile struggle to compose something similar just hours ago.
language: 4, rhythm: 4, subject: 5, tone: 4, form: 5.
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I love the smell of rain, when it just starts
This is very well written, great imagery
Cindy
language: 5, rhythm: 5, subject: 5, tone: 5, form: 5.
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nice imagery
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