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. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **
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Feb 22, 2007 at 6:31am
#1458682
Cold Dawn
by decora Author IconMail Icon
"Cold Dawn."

Snowcapped mountains sparkle
As the sun peeks over the horison
New day is laid out so crisp
Frosted window panes, like etched glass
Icles hanging from the eaves
Glisten brighter than diamonds
Not a sound can be heard
Silenced it seems, in the blanket of white

A single trail of sunken footsteps
In the white blanket apon the ground
Orchard trees bare to the bone
Frost clinging to leafless branches
Chickadee's thankful for the footsteps
Who left seeds, for them to survive

Such a simple pleasure to sip a cup of java
Gazing out at the cold dawn.

Decora
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*Exclaim*
Cold Dawn
· 02-22-07 6:31am
by decora Author IconMail Icon
Re: Cold Dawn · 02-22-07 9:21am
by Joy Author IconMail Icon

The following section applies to this forum item as a whole, not this individual post.
Any feedback sent through it will go to the forum's owner, Joy.
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