Elizabeth Peterson

Elizabeth Peterson Poems

Long Shadows stretch,
Thin and muted,
Reaching through the
Leafy archway.
...

Dappled shadows lay on
Uneven wood chips—
A nearly empty
Swingset and one
...

Chalk dust
Under fingernails
Scribble-covered chalkboards
white on green
...

Some say you are evil
But others wonder
Maybe we're all just
Misunderstanding
...

Love.
A flame so strong, only
Time can quench it.
...

Raw passion,
Pure flame;
The world stops turning,
Stops twirling again.
...

A web of water plays over my knee.
I stand, lather, scrub.
Soap clings to my naked body;
I scrub harder.
...

Elizabeth Peterson Biography

There isn't much to say- I've just begun my story. High school is crazy, and time is scarce, but I'm learning, always learning. Comments are always appreciated. I'll make updates when I can.)

The Best Poem Of Elizabeth Peterson

Solitude's Garden (The Shadow Cage)

Long Shadows stretch,
Thin and muted,
Reaching through the
Leafy archway.
The solitude is nearly complete here—
A tiny suburban haven
In a stone-rimmed,
Slotted-metal
Bubble.
The world beyond seems
But a dream, here—a
Nightmare of muffled
Cheers and rumbling trains,
Perfect houses and
Cars tinted yellow in the street-lamps.
Here, the crickets are the
Symphony,
Playing for the last of summer's
Dying blooms and the
Solitary
Girl
So quiet among them.
In this place,
What was lost was found:
Broken strands of
Poetry, snippets of
Prose and
Emotions vivid but
Scattered
So rudely by swarms of
Mosquitoes.
The air is heavy with
the scents of
Sulfur, chocolate, and damp earth,
Still in this fading
Summer night... It's
Too quiet with sounds of
Laughter, empty without the
Rattling of chains.
This cultivated retreat seems
Half a world away from the
Swingset
Just across the tracks, and
She shakes as her
Mind remembers,
But her heart is still safe:
Though the trees swath the
Garden in Night, the
Shadows cannot
Touch her here...
But time cannot stand
Still.
Her eyes trace the
Shape of faded leaves and
Flowers, preparing for the
Fall,
But hoping for Spring.
Her mind wanders in,
Escorted by the
Shadows clawing at the gate,
And she rises to meet them.
A pause under the
Entwined branches and
The pink sunset
Transforms the
Open green and
Clustered trees from an
Artist's paradise to a
Graveyard of Dreams.
Her Shadow greets her there,
Mischievous fingers
Snatching away her
Wings and tugging
Faerie-dust from her
Back pocket.
I begin my journey home,
But fear turned her
Bubble to a cage and
She does not follow.
The shadows twist her
Voice, cackles and screeches
Blurring the edges of
Words they'd keep from
Reaching my ears, but
Still I can
Hear her calling:

Love, you'll know where to
Find me.

(September 22,2008)

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