Beauteous Bones
We’ve not dreamt the crystal morn,
the tinkling ping of sun warmed ice,
the egg white branch of lilac dipped,
the magic of the wintry day
which fills the heart with awe.
Such days of silver ice and blue white snow
the lancing spears of ‘cicle formed
awake are we to majesty, that all too soon is gone.
Gone in graceful austerity, a loveliness all its own,
the white of skeleton, these beauteous bones.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment