Tag: grass

Sunset of love

Nothing changed here from yesterday
As he gazed forlornly at the setting sun
Carpet of grass like velvet
Foliage turning crimson red
Catching the color of sunset
It was here that they had their first kiss
The fiery sunset paled
By the fire burning in their hearts
Her lips flaming red
Was it the passion
Or captured color of sunset
Rushing libido unleashed
He returned her every kiss
Little did he realize
Seduction was in her heart
Like the leaves of fall
One moment grandiose
Coloring the forest fiery red
And gone, blown away, dead
Passion subdued, her lips pale
Heart filled with apprehension he inquired
What’s wrong, anything he had done
Nothing my love, nothing is wrong
Sun has set, it’s time to go home
In a flash like the last rays of setting sun
With a swing of her hips, she was gone
With no promise to return
The kiss was for him to keep
Sunset of love
The hurt was deep indeed

This poem is in response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month (November) with Yeats Challenge day Five

When Nothing Seems to Work

Days when nothing seems to work well
Even getting up from bed feels like hell
Everything touched start falling apart
Mind goes blank burdened with a heavy heart
When the weight of the world bears down
Everywhere is darkness, nowhere to run
Climbing into a fetal position in a cocoon
All around it’s a premonition of doom
Hiding in a corner as if it is a safe harbour
When suddenly in the air there is a soft murmur
The world is neither a bed of roses
Nor the world owes anything to you
Grass is not always green
Not always covered with dew
Get up, awake, take hold, be in control
No shame in failing
Try again
Take hold and be on a roll