But of course, I say as you suavely saunter through
the sunset slope of the sky. And I hear languid lyrics
of sensuous
sorrow color your silent good-by. Blue.
Time is an alluring artist yet raw and ruthless in its
rendering.
The exterior of mouthed,
minute moments is nothing now
but a sallow silhouette
surrendering its virile vaunts to my futile follies.
Still, I find myself peering
passionately,
piteously within them so I will not forget
piteously within them so I will not forget
the lambent, lilting
laughter of your cerulean swoon;
the dazzling depths of your azure afternoon after tangerine,
twilight tresses etch
your eternal echo into the eager embrace
of burnished breezes caressing the deepening darkness
obliterating your fancied, flawless face
J~
The Sunday Whirl #74
From the thirteen words, choose one word to use as a part of your title. That word becomes your “theme” for your wordle.
Using the “other” twelve words, craft your wordle poem.
Walt, my attempt at alliteration and internal rhyme is for you:) Thank-you for your 'coaching'...and I hope you can read it without cringing.
Wow - Janet - you have wielded alliteration like an artist using her brush, or maybe even a palette knife - and revisiting the blue hues extensively ... very nicely done ... I felt what the poet was feeling and could see the man so clearly
ReplyDeletehttp://thepoet-tree-house.blogspot.ca/2012/09/deaths-silhouette.html