03-03-2015, 05:48 AM
Hello hopefularahant
Far to many people are slaves of their phones, very sad indeed.
I think you can say more with less in your poem. From my reads I find that your images/thoughts are diluted by an excess of words.
The rising Sun spills sanguine gold,
From spotty splits in skin.
Their leafy limbs bend over
Drinking their honey lover--
grasses sway incessantly,
whispering words of wind,
Song birds?
Silky syllables, meaningless,
Unless they're heard
White tipped waves wash upon the sand
Salty upon grey shore
A wondrous azure spectacle
But bound to grey moons core (wind crates waves – moon creates tide)
Her eyes as true as cat or hawk
Though deeper than green sea
More soulful than an animals, (This verse tripped me up every time)
With no reason to be.
Wondrous globes distracted
such beauty to behold
Still staring at a phone
Take care,
John
Far to many people are slaves of their phones, very sad indeed.
I think you can say more with less in your poem. From my reads I find that your images/thoughts are diluted by an excess of words.
The rising Sun spills sanguine gold,
From spotty splits in skin.
Their leafy limbs bend over
Drinking their honey lover--
grasses sway incessantly,
whispering words of wind,
Song birds?
Silky syllables, meaningless,
Unless they're heard
White tipped waves wash upon the sand
Salty upon grey shore
A wondrous azure spectacle
But bound to grey moons core (wind crates waves – moon creates tide)
Her eyes as true as cat or hawk
Though deeper than green sea
More soulful than an animals, (This verse tripped me up every time)
With no reason to be.
Wondrous globes distracted
such beauty to behold
Still staring at a phone
Take care,
John