07-15-2010, 01:54 PM
I thought there was a thread somewhere ~ where we posted what we thought was our best poem. I can't find it now...
Here's mine.
Coveting - Dreamverse 1
Coveting
Definition: To desire wrongfully,
inordinately, or without
due regard for the rights
of others.
OR
to wish for especially
eagerly
I am the beloved
thick fiction book
with yellowed
pages turned by
many fingers
over years and
years of time.
That everyone
has wanted,
cherished
and learned
from and
even reread.
I am that
wooden family
well-made
Amish rocking
chair that rocked
all the babies
by and by
to the lullabies.
Sung by the moms
and dads and grandmas.
I am that happy
dumb dog
that waits on
the porch
every day
for the love
of his master
who gets fed
and petted
and played with
and snuggled
each night.
I am the
cooling rain
on a hot humid
summer day
when the creek’s
run dry and there’s
no more lemonade.
I am the cold
muddy field
under the
beautiful white
swans, eating -
plucking the worms
getting covered
with dirt.
feeling their
warm bellies
and webbed feet
walking over me.
I am the gentle rain
creating a mist in the forest
tickling the dark green ferns
making their leaves shine
feeding their thirsty roots.
I am a coyote howling
at the full moon
laughing and barking,
wild and free
running with my pack
just across the river
where the humans
do not come.
©12/27/2009
Here's mine.
Coveting - Dreamverse 1
Coveting
Definition: To desire wrongfully,
inordinately, or without
due regard for the rights
of others.
OR
to wish for especially
eagerly
I am the beloved
thick fiction book
with yellowed
pages turned by
many fingers
over years and
years of time.
That everyone
has wanted,
cherished
and learned
from and
even reread.
I am that
wooden family
well-made
Amish rocking
chair that rocked
all the babies
by and by
to the lullabies.
Sung by the moms
and dads and grandmas.
I am that happy
dumb dog
that waits on
the porch
every day
for the love
of his master
who gets fed
and petted
and played with
and snuggled
each night.
I am the
cooling rain
on a hot humid
summer day
when the creek’s
run dry and there’s
no more lemonade.
I am the cold
muddy field
under the
beautiful white
swans, eating -
plucking the worms
getting covered
with dirt.
feeling their
warm bellies
and webbed feet
walking over me.
I am the gentle rain
creating a mist in the forest
tickling the dark green ferns
making their leaves shine
feeding their thirsty roots.
I am a coyote howling
at the full moon
laughing and barking,
wild and free
running with my pack
just across the river
where the humans
do not come.
©12/27/2009
Bianca
