It's group poem time again. Each one so far has turned out amazingly unique. Here's a line to start with:
She stands, still as silence,
the tip of her tongue
is at last the debris
in her unsculpted substance.
Her eyes look restlessly
at the sun's setting brilliance.
The breath is a lie
causing muted violence,
breaching silences that should never have
lasted beyond the first whispered prayer-
a semaphore of heart as to be perceived,
the drop of tear her eye conceived
First line by Sara
Lines 2, 3, 4 by Crimsonflaw
Lines 5 and 6 by Lioness.
Lines 7 and 8 by Dream Catcher
Lines 9 and 10 by Deb
Lines 11 and 12 by Dream Catcher
Thanks, poets, for heloing to shape this piece. I love when members of our blogroll jump in to make this site a better place. Remember this blog belongs to the poets linked here, not me alone, so if you have any ideas for posts let me know.
Your Blog Manager,
Sara from The Shores of My Dreams
Sunday, July 08, 2007
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7 comments:
the tip of her tongue
is at last the debris
in her unsculpted substance
Her eyes look restlessly
at the sun's setting brilliance
Breathtaking line, Crimsonflaw.
Great contribution, Lioness. Do you want me to link to your site? What is the URL?
the breath is a lie
causing muted violence
breaching silences that should never have
lasted beyond the first whispered prayer
a semaphore of heart as to be perceived
the drop of tear her eye conceived
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