The princess
In a Latin garden
Reads a crystal ball
Roses form a circle
Angels feathers
Set to fall.
Words dressed
In dying memory
Lovers in a queue
Shuffling unsteady feet
In a dream
They dream of you.
Lies swimming in
A foaming ocean
With blue eyes
Set to meet
Stranger dressed in black
Upon a deserted street.
Poverty stricken children
Beg with grasping hands
The fountain dry of water
In silence now it stands
The patrons left in fury
The birdsong long ago
The princess has grown old
Nobody wants to know.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: September 15th, 2025 02:09
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 20
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments1
Norman this poem has a special thing about it that I can not put my finger on. It has good flow and a rolling meter that carries the reader onward, the rhyme is good and engaging and the message is haunting but there is something else intangible that I like about it. A fave
I felt exactly the same, but couldnt put my finger on it, thanking you and appreciated
You are most welcome
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