Best Nostalgiaearth Poems
When the sky bleeds solitude
like a wounded weeping heart and
the horizon’s embrace wraps valleys about eternity,
then, only then, can the bountiful earth find love.
Crimson dawns feed the artist eye, and poet’s pen
for all that’s green and wonderful must bleed, and rise, and die.
Each reflection rainbowed in cirrus cloud’s caress
or white capped ocean wave combine
Blue bloods of forest’s fringe between earth and sky,
meadowlark and nightingale
a wedding bell of bliss,
the mornings brings…
Creek Bed,
water flowing around rocks,
bubbling through craw-dad holes,
churning, splashing, racing to lower ground,
sloshing about in the mud.
Creek Banks,
tumbling of rocks and dirt,
scratching, crawling to get out of the creek bed,
snapping, ripping of sod from the edges,
clods of earth and grass falling with a thud.
Brick Pile,
clanking of terra cotta,
rubbing of baked clay surfaces,
against small, dry, dirty hands,
dragging of sack cloth across the grass, covered with bricks.
Back to the Creek Bed,
more splashes: clods of earth and grass in the water,
bricks slapping down on wet earth,
water squirting through the brick holes,
showering down into a deepening pool.
Dad,
scuffing boots in the dirt,
angrily pacing this way and that,
shouting at the top of his lungs,
“Where are all my bricks!!!”
Inspired by the contest "The Sounds of Summer", sponsored by Laura Mckenzie