About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
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Green Peas at Stake #301657 added August 10, 2004 at 12:31pm Restrictions: None
Picking Up
"Picking up
shards of hope
my unique talent,"
I boasted,
while you kept vigil
in haunting dreams,
hazy memories,
botched up yesterdays.
Today, maybe,
I'll find a roadmap;
maybe, I'll trace back
the steps I took
and connect the dots of hope
in my storybook.
I'll meet you on your way
to see
if either of us have gained
any understanding,
if you can still sing
through the eclipse of the moon,
not if
you float distorted
as a vision
I imagined
from afar.
But...
to sweep out the hazy memories
haunting dreams,
and botched up yesterdays.
This time I want to embrace you
the way you are.
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© Copyright 2004 Joy (UN: joycag at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Joy has granted InkSpot.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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