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by Jane E PearceThe world seems square now-
all black and white- no round
rose faces to smile the day away.
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Tomorrows shrink like cotton
in boiling water,and hours
have no surprises,except to appear.
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Where are dawn's dreams?
They fear they will be slashed
with a scalpel, or crushed by doubt.
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I must throw the earth again,
and mold it round on the wheel,
squeezing the colors back,
and stretching out tomorrows
until they hold my heart in their hours.
09/02/2006 Posted on 09/02/2006
Copyright © 2024 Jane E Pearce
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 09/02/06 at 01:25 PM A worthy expression and wonderful sentiment for our times Jane. Yes, it's all up to us to squeeze the Earth back to a more streamlined shape and reinvigerated color. |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 09/02/06 at 01:25 PM A worthy expression and wonderful sentiment for our times Jane. Yes, it's all up to us to squeeze the Earth back to a more streamlined shape and reinvigerated color. |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 09/03/06 at 03:31 AM "I must throw the earth again,
and mold it round on the wheel," - I love these two lines that begin the last stanza, that finishes this poem so well.
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| Posted by Angela Nuzzo on 09/03/06 at 04:30 AM Beautiful sentiments. I love the line: "hours
have no surprises, except to appear." A heartbreaking thought that the only surprise left in this world...is that it's still here.
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