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A lonely bard can paint and write more songs,
Which birds loftily warble all day long,
Every note taps the heart of each flower,
Sprinkles dew drops while silent wind meanders.

Her ballad - a gem of all creations,
A home, hollowed not with admiration,
Chasm within draws perfect harmony
For stars to play a perfect symphony.

With knowledge and love, ink surges so deep,
The feather outshines the wind on its tip,
Lifting up dry leaves lying underneath
Every tale is treasured by golden sheath.

Lonely bard pens the lyrics of our hearts,
Where weary souls can find their road to start.



Aug 9, 2013  11.50am
By: Leonora Galinta




“I am a lonely bard
I have no song to sing.
This empty ballad is my home.
A feather against the dying wind- 
-my only expression.”

 -by my dearest sis, Poet Destroyer from her poem, “Umbrella”




Note:

This poem is a loving dedication/ homage to my all time greatest & most favourite poet, my loving sis & friend of mine & my number 1 inspiration.


Fourth Place
Contest: Pick a line, any line from a poem of fav. poet
Judged: 9/11/2013
Sponsor: Richard Lamourex

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