Fluxinator
07-24-2010, 03:04 PM
Crafting a Poem
Lyrical waves caressing your unborn ears,
a zen garden of flourishment and nourished flowers,
soothing the confines of every particle in your tears,
a structure so great, words too minute for its prowess.
So ever softly you move to the cellar door,
its bronze hinges blanketing the rugged, rough and beaten oak,
inside soft to the touch as you sense the surrounding floor,
a steady pace you clamber up through the white smoke.
Twirling winds and gushing waterfalls,
butterflies fluttering elegantly downwards,
still you float to the peak of the ever tall,
vuluptuous, sensory formation of words.
At last you reach the peak of all peaks,
and look down upon your creation,
a satisfied breath breaks through your lips,
your intellect has been replenished.
Lyrical waves caressing your unborn ears,
a zen garden of flourishment and nourished flowers,
soothing the confines of every particle in your tears,
a structure so great, words too minute for its prowess.
So ever softly you move to the cellar door,
its bronze hinges blanketing the rugged, rough and beaten oak,
inside soft to the touch as you sense the surrounding floor,
a steady pace you clamber up through the white smoke.
Twirling winds and gushing waterfalls,
butterflies fluttering elegantly downwards,
still you float to the peak of the ever tall,
vuluptuous, sensory formation of words.
At last you reach the peak of all peaks,
and look down upon your creation,
a satisfied breath breaks through your lips,
your intellect has been replenished.