Fluttering piles of yesterday
meander into my today
and coaxed trails of imagination
decipher sleepless bundles of
echoing thoughts
rummaging through my childhood maze
painted in primrose and chilling
burnt sienna
gliding whiff of coarse wind
chimes into my childlike whims
gyrates like blue butterflies
into suitcases peppered in memories
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Comments4
That's the problem with yesterdays, they always seem to stop you moving on. A bit like recycling, it just comes back as something different.
I'll just say that this is breathtakingly lovely. It is gauzy and sounds so haunting when read aloud. This is what poetry can be!
if those first two are anything to go by, I think I and a whole bunch of other folk here are gonna get along like a house on fire ... Neville
The essence of shadows that meander in memories is so expertly penned in this gem of a piece. Welcome to MPS and hope to read more of your work Ninkasi.
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