i
There are two
not singing Asian
koehls dancing to
the tune of April
drizzle, playing
with brown, and a
bit smaller mynahs.
ii
The plane above
looked c r a w l i n g ,
ever so s l o w l y ,
gliding on a noon
sky void of fluffy
nor heavy clouds,
yet with Math it’s
actually eating hundreds
of miles for its lunch.
iii
There are two
women – one wearing
a delicate, lilac hijab,
while the other
possessed eyes like
the small cracks
of a for-sale piggy bank –
sitting with a grey-eyed
man, with mane so blond.
iv
Before I was able
to sew the story of
their chit-chat, I
can’t get rid of imagining
their races’ proud flags,
v
like bokeh halos
floating on their head tops,
flying, flying, flying proud.
vi
Perhaps in that table
without kissing nor hearts,
vii
I tasted another flavor
of love.
I like the way you write the poem specially the effect through breaking down the word crawling…
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ah. thank you for noticing the details, Sangbad! I appreciate you!
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Oh, this is so lovely!!!
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Your poetic level is soaring higher and higher each day, as if trekking to higher summits, into cleaner air, and breathing out magnificence of words. Each day you make me proud. I sometimes wonder how you manage to play with words in the way that you do. God has blessed you abundantly, my dearest poetess. In a decade, I won’t be surprised if your poetry book will be taught in educational institutions 😉
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oh look at that poetic comment. thank yiou so so much, my beloved. for believing in me. ❤
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love your observations and how you connect the dots of life and people passing you by
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thanks a lot, Gina dear! ❤ I think it is true that creativity blooms when you're outside your home.
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you are welcome my dear, we do see with different eyes when we are in unfamiliar places. blessings on you always
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i agree. God bless you, dear! ❤
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Beautiful poem.
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Thank you, Oloriel! 🙂
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[…] you’re both silent followers who read my posts so thank you F and S), and to Rosemarie of A Reading Writer, who also checked in on me earlier this week when she noticed my absence on Instagram (it truly was […]
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