It is the black smoke rising
Oozing through shuttered windows
seeping into quiet corners
Blocking the heart from
...
A dark moon rising
mirrors despair upon the lake.
Black covers the waves,
smothering the winter light.
...
Opened my eyes this morning
On a day so fine
Hopped right up and jumped right up
To see what’s online
...
Oh sweet oblivion
That moment when the wailing wind is muted
and the storm ceases lashing the windowpane
Softly dripping downwards sliding
...
Fireflies dancing
Constellations flickering
In the bedroom sky
Black corpses with crystal tails
...
The little one sighs
Snowflakes melt before the dawn
Still the hembra weeps
...
(Just a note. For those of you that don't own peacocks - we have 17 - the males lose their long tail feathers in autumn - not that it stops them struttin' the peacock rag)
----
...
A outplaced Yank finding my heart and home in Australia. My days are filled with the bush (all 160 acres of it) , the alpacas, the horses, the dogs, the chooks - and the peacocks. I have written poetry all my life, but being unemployed (temporarily I hope) has given me the chance to cast my rhymes to the greater wind, and see what cyclones it arouses.)
Black Smoke Rising
It is the black smoke rising
Oozing through shuttered windows
seeping into quiet corners
Blocking the heart from
the light of the mind
deepening the gloom of
the mind’s eye
It is the black smoke rising
Sucking out the grief
where loss hides in daytime
Slipping sorrow in its wake
and despair into its bed
to smother laughter
to strangle hope
It is the black smoke rising
The pain crying out
to the one that is lost
Empty echoes mocking back
curling up around the hollow husk
Listless in life
tasting the death of
the black smoke rising.
You are a very descriptive writer Lynn, I hope you find the poemhunter site rewarding, many don't. Welcome, Jerry