hung low swamp weeds
dark shapes rise like smoke
blog lights dance and swirl
tiny pensive beings wait
ancient souls weep our name
This is a poetry,prose,Haiku and writing site
Edna St. Vincent Millay
1916
My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends-
It gives a lovely light!
Widget available from writingdramatica |
11 comments:
Yes, Melanie, those bog lights are mysterious. I like your take on it calling them beings.
I never have seen them, have you? They have them in Northeast Texas and Northwest Louisiana. Some say it is gas.
I like this a lot. With all your artful imaging it is like I am seeing them. :)
..
I am in Quebec City, Canada. I planned to be out tonight but it is raining and cool so what else but catch up on my blogging?
..
what a great way to talk of blogs and the dwellers of blogsvilla !! loved this :)
PS : i like your blog header image !
Oh, I love the mystical enchantment that comes from these ancient souls - I absolutely adore this piece, adore it!
I believe I have heard that weeping.
Sorry my friends but I have been ill of late. I want to thank you all for your wonderful comments.
Melanie
Rest well and take care, my friend.
Loved your imagination in poem.
Our poems are like tiny pensive beings waiting. I like that!
Melanie, I enjoyed the images. Quite compelling.
Best wishes.
Carlos
wise words.
it is important for all to know or be aware of ...
I adore this, very thought provoking my friend...so well penned. Thanks x
thanks to Jim for sharing his thoughts on your poem... ;-)
always thought-provoking verses you're penning Melanie!
thanks for sharing! ;-)
Post a Comment