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Short poetry or prose

  1. Dec 19, 2007 #1
    Amidst the trees and their canopy, a green hued kaleidoscope, lies a hidden meadow in spring, a retreat from the shadows, where the sky meets the earth. The sun sojourns there, sending gentle winds to dance with the young grasses. They sway to and fro, an auditorium of slender green children, cheering in unison the wonder of her season.

    Flowers, yellow and lavender and red, sprout from the fertile soil forming a colorful mosaic, a tapestry of life, their scented petals gracing the meadow with a fresh fragrance , a precious perfume, a scent that could conjure bereaved breath from senseless form and bear it away on butterfly wings. Even the flowers bow to the glorious sun with her radiant smile. She knows their names and counts their petals carefully, bathing them in her easy light.

    The land rises and falls, earth like an ocean broken from the barren plain of time, soothing swells stood still. Hope sleeps, its face towards the azure skies, and sails away upon the crest of the hidden meadow, pursuing the sun beyond the horizon, beyond when the world is dark and frozen and trees claw at the grey skies like creatures in nightmares. It awakens, jetsam in a pacific archipelago, where birds always sing their morning melodies in tribute to an ever-rising sun and flowers grow five feet tall. The sun lives there and she smiles an eternal spring on hidden meadows.

    I'm wondering what to do with this. It isn't written intentionally in any kind of metric rhythm, but it isn't exactly meant to be prose either. I'm not sure how to categorize it. Any ideas? Comments? Have some short writing of your own to share?
  2. jcsd
  3. Dec 19, 2007 #2
    If you want to do something with your poem you can send it at www.poetry.com for a monthly $1000 competition. I've written some really pointless stuff in the past, here is some.

    "The sky is pumpkin blue,
    With intricate fluffy meshes and blankets of white hue.
    It just rained and we are left with cool dew.

    A rainbow one would expect but there was none
    As brilliant and arching across the good sky rerun
    Over and over again until all heavens were undone"

    Global Warming

    "It is getting dark and gloomy
    All the flowers have been blooming
    A petal there, another leaf just fell

    Fluffs of snow are breakng sweat,
    When all the bears prepare to hibernate.
    Days are getting even longer and it rains more stronger.

    Everything is dying except the birds are flying.
    It is lonely and cold
    An old growth grew a new mold.

    Blue berries are sprouting
    Straws are carried by the wind
    Among ever visible twigs flying blindly.

    All the trees turned amber and ruby.
    And some harbor newbie seeds
    That will become a string of beeds."
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