A susurration
Ribbons of lingering day
lonely sighing nights.
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Author:
Michael Edwards (
Offline) - Published: June 24th, 2022 01:21
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 26
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek, Saxon Crow.
Offline)
Comments5
Good write and pic M.
Miss Berles know that susurr-wotsit word?!
She's not got a clue but she does have hips.
Good write and pic M.
Miss Berles know that susurr-wotsit word?!
She's not got a clue but she does have hips. Funny - think I've said that before!
'mother's, learn to knit
by watching mothers, knit
painstakingly, passing
one thread though another
to fix those holes, in human
connections
skilfully balancing aesthetic worth
with the tangible practicality's
needed, to maintain togetherness
in everyday life..
Nature, too
let spiders, weave
their own cobweb paths to survival
but, Time's
change
and windswept, cultures begin
to get warped..
now, knitting
is a mass produced
machine, action
and family's
have lost the trick, to knit
nuclear, together
like, they once did
yet
that lowly spider
still
curate their, cobwebbed
paths
like their mother's did
...'
(simply Brilliant, Michael
forgive me I couldn't help trying
to poetically express
what your artistry communicated to me)
What a super response - you must post it in the gallery
A very understated little poem Mike. Into my faves it goes.
Gee thans SC for the accolade.
Beautiful words Michael and an intriguing artwork.
Andy
Thanks Andy - I call it Broken Thread - white mount and black frame.
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