Summer’s Rose – form writing

Many a rose adorns summer’s morn.

Fair as the breeze whispering through the trees.

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Sea of Child

 

By listening very carefully
I could hear it on the air
My call across the many years
to me still walking there
The beach where many summer spent
as a boy with dirty knees
To which half a century later
I returned on Autumn breeze

Questions

Were we destiny?
Or were you just my fate boy?
Did I walk away?

© Emily Page

Desire (Loop poem)

Poetry challenge: Loop poetry.

image: google

Desire… is a butterfly,

butterfly born to fly,

fly far away from you,

you stupid little boy.

Autumn

Falling.

Falling.

Into the pit of despair
Into the trough of despondence

The boy fell.

Not a sheer drop nor steep descent
But a slow,
Painful slide.

Not a scream nor a cry
But a chorus of mocking laughter
Accompanying his stifled sobs.