winter poem!
of_the_girl
Posts: 745
crispy cool air and shoes that reminded
her of tapdancing
mixed with slippery snow and cloudy visions
of happy memories...,
she built a snowman of truth without mittens on
trudging around in her father's big coat
wiping the stinging icy holy water on her
tight blue jeans
she watched her breath float away
and she wished it would end up
in his ear by morning.
curiously pondering how quickly
wishes travel on whispers,
she layed in the snow and made
her guardian angel but it's always hard
to stand up without ruining it...
her angel had a broken wing,
but it didn't affect it's will to play the harp
using the wind and leftover leaves from
november
she always loved positioning her tongue in her mouth
with all her attempts at making
circles in the air, her lips in an "o" shape...
signaling for her perfect one to
appear in the crystalic hills of
gathering flakes...
it's lonely standing there with her nose as pink
as a baby's mouth
and her hair in her eyes,
and all she wants is his gloved hand to push
all of it away.
she breathes a heart shape into the wind...
she hopes it reaches him by morning...
her of tapdancing
mixed with slippery snow and cloudy visions
of happy memories...,
she built a snowman of truth without mittens on
trudging around in her father's big coat
wiping the stinging icy holy water on her
tight blue jeans
she watched her breath float away
and she wished it would end up
in his ear by morning.
curiously pondering how quickly
wishes travel on whispers,
she layed in the snow and made
her guardian angel but it's always hard
to stand up without ruining it...
her angel had a broken wing,
but it didn't affect it's will to play the harp
using the wind and leftover leaves from
november
she always loved positioning her tongue in her mouth
with all her attempts at making
circles in the air, her lips in an "o" shape...
signaling for her perfect one to
appear in the crystalic hills of
gathering flakes...
it's lonely standing there with her nose as pink
as a baby's mouth
and her hair in her eyes,
and all she wants is his gloved hand to push
all of it away.
she breathes a heart shape into the wind...
she hopes it reaches him by morning...
"At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet." --Plato
www.myspace.com/birdinamitten
www.myspace.com/birdinamitten
Post edited by Unknown User on
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Comments
just like your eyes! *does a twirl*
www.myspace.com/birdinamitten
Oh, how I miss winter.