Remnants of Time
Black roses sprawl, to droop, then fade
raking tendrils of her attic’s shades;
a brief display which glints inked nights
only for time’s sake, buds do parade.
How fleeting the luster of stems’ arms,
between weeping dusk and chilled sun
twigs crack like love's farewell --sad moon,
a wish-- the fragrance of bliss gone.
She digs remnants; gazing afar
perhaps to cuddle ringlets of star,
that hides dawn’s lamp from memories
instead her eyes reflect more scars.
Though pain mocks unbecoming heart
a young bough nestles on ground's arc;
granting reprieve in place of tears
to kindle sparks for dance to start.
Open Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Charlotte Puddifoot
7/12/2015
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2015
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