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Romanticism (draft)
by Leonard M HawkesWe know it
Like the color
Of our eyes,
Like the feel
Of our teeth,
And we desire it,
Dream it,
Seek it,
Always.
And there
In a hollow
Of the hills,
Just as Spring
Began to melt
The lingering cold;
Day's last light
Glimmering
On one snowy peak,
It caught
My hungry eye.
Yet, dusk
Spawned doubt,
Custom
Cast up walls;
But the singing
Warmth of its
Blue, rang true.
And the elusive
Blossoming
Revealed itself
In freshness,
Grace, satisfaction:
Beauty's fullness--
Still--Blue Flower--
And for only
One brief hour.
We know it
Like the color
Of our eyes,
Like the feel
Of our teeth;
And we desire it,
Dream it,
Seek it,
Always. 03/29/2003 Author's Note: Just an encounter.
Posted on 03/30/2003
Copyright © 2024 Leonard M Hawkes
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Amanda J Cobb on 05/12/03 at 02:18 AM Well done overall good imagery...I tend to like the middle three stanzas more than the first/last one. If you're planning on reworking this draft, maybe make the language of that first/last stanza sound more like the central ones, it might help it flow a little better. Still, good start. :) |
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