10-11-2013, 05:39 AM
Edit (in progress):
Above a crispy flock of flipping leaves,
the sky was smokey gray.
The soil was hard and gaping open
like a mouth in shocked dismay.
My scanty foliage shriveled brown and dry,
descending to the ground;
Determined to survive the world this way
although my roots were bound.
Impassive gusts of wailing wind would beat
my face with no refrain.
The prickly dust, a choking cover up
until the day you rained.
Your tender mist, honeysuckle sweet,
began to fill the rift,
and then my birthing thirst was jarred unloose
to openly accept your gift.
In breaking sun, amongst the carpet-grass,
I blossomed whole, anew.
I spread my petals: pink, exposed and pale
to bathe in earthy dew.
Repressed no more. I flourished unashamed
while feeling like a rose,
but seasons drift away. You would not stay
to save me from the snow.
The chill was quick and while I wilt again,
I writhe in piercing pain.
Aloud, I shriek, "It hurts me more to suffer
with the memory of your rain!"
Original:
Above a flock of crispy, flipping leaves,
the sky was tortured gray.
The soil was hard and gaping open like
a mouth in shocked dismay.
My scanty foliage shriveled brown and dry,
descending to the ground;
determined to survive the world this way
although my roots were bound.
Impassive gusts of wailing wind would beat
my face with no refrain.
The prickly dust and woe endured like this
until the day you rained.
At first, you hesitantly misted down,
sinking into the rift,
and then my birthing thirst was jarred unloose
to openly accept your gift.
In breaking sun, amongst the carpet-grass,
I blossomed whole, anew.
I spread my petals: pink, exposed and pale
to bathe in earthy dew.
Repressed no more. I flourished there unashamed
while feeling like a rose,
but seasons drift away. You would not stay
to save me from the snow.
The chill was quick and while I wilt I think
about this agonizing pain.
Aloud, I shriek, "It hurts me more to suffer with the
memory of your rain!"
Above a crispy flock of flipping leaves,
the sky was smokey gray.
The soil was hard and gaping open
like a mouth in shocked dismay.
My scanty foliage shriveled brown and dry,
descending to the ground;
Determined to survive the world this way
although my roots were bound.
Impassive gusts of wailing wind would beat
my face with no refrain.
The prickly dust, a choking cover up
until the day you rained.
Your tender mist, honeysuckle sweet,
began to fill the rift,
and then my birthing thirst was jarred unloose
to openly accept your gift.
In breaking sun, amongst the carpet-grass,
I blossomed whole, anew.
I spread my petals: pink, exposed and pale
to bathe in earthy dew.
Repressed no more. I flourished unashamed
while feeling like a rose,
but seasons drift away. You would not stay
to save me from the snow.
The chill was quick and while I wilt again,
I writhe in piercing pain.
Aloud, I shriek, "It hurts me more to suffer
with the memory of your rain!"
Original:
Above a flock of crispy, flipping leaves,
the sky was tortured gray.
The soil was hard and gaping open like
a mouth in shocked dismay.
My scanty foliage shriveled brown and dry,
descending to the ground;
determined to survive the world this way
although my roots were bound.
Impassive gusts of wailing wind would beat
my face with no refrain.
The prickly dust and woe endured like this
until the day you rained.
At first, you hesitantly misted down,
sinking into the rift,
and then my birthing thirst was jarred unloose
to openly accept your gift.
In breaking sun, amongst the carpet-grass,
I blossomed whole, anew.
I spread my petals: pink, exposed and pale
to bathe in earthy dew.
Repressed no more. I flourished there unashamed
while feeling like a rose,
but seasons drift away. You would not stay
to save me from the snow.
The chill was quick and while I wilt I think
about this agonizing pain.
Aloud, I shriek, "It hurts me more to suffer with the
memory of your rain!"