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The Harp

Hibiscus glistened in their beaded sleeves as wind played keys atonal in the oak. I plucked taut rain strings weeping from the eaves and heard an angel whisper as he spoke the scattered verses in my nomad mind imprisoned in the gray cell of a storm. Then as I played that harp in restless kind a blue wisp in the clouds began to form. 6/13/18

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Kurt Ravidas

Date: 4/26/2019 1:38:00 PM

Laughing out with pleasure... Hmm, this is new for me. I must think it out)

Kurt Ravidas

Date: 4/26/2019 11:07:00 AM

Jesus, when I got to a blue wisp, I laughed out with pleasure. How comes?

Dale Gregory Cozart
Date: 4/26/2019 11:36:00 AM

Gosh, I don't know. Was it something I said?

Gershon Wolf

Date: 6/19/2018 7:55:00 PM

Once more with feeling: Such tantalizing, sensual and 'sense-ual' imagery. Excellent! ~ Gershon

Tim Smith

Date: 6/13/2018 6:18:00 PM

The scattered verses in my nomad mind... brilliant Dale

Dale Gregory Cozart
Date: 6/13/2018 6:27:00 PM

Thanks, Tim!

Agnes Krampe

Date: 6/13/2018 3:38:00 PM

Stunning imagery, Dale, and I love how you work with the sounds (beaded sleeves, weeping eaves)- this needs to be read aloud. Is this for the contest? It's such an odd contest prompt, I have no idea how to even begin - and now that I've read your poem, I won't even bother writing one :)

Dale Gregory Cozart
Date: 6/13/2018 4:11:00 PM

Yes, it is for a contest. Thank you so much for your kind words.