In the curve of an eyelash, fallen;
in the dust of an empty room -
evidences of someone`s presence...
Why do you insist, you are alone?
It is proved: Most of the skin -
once shed becomes 'house dust'...
Hey, not a house ghost,
Nothing about sixth sense,
Well, call it nonsense, or ninth sense...or dust
Sofia,03.06.2008
resources: http: //wiki.answers.com/Q/Where_does_dust_come_from
She stuffed his things into a box, closed her heart and changed the locks but in its tawdry dust there lay their hopes, her dreams, his DNA. As elegant and original as always, One. Fx
aaahhh, Onelia, you hit it with that first line.... Dust, such an emotive subject to write about, from Dust we are created to dust we return, and in the spaces inbetween we try hard to exist. On a mote of dust You carried me into your universe That appeared insignificant to others But was my entire existence.
Memories even in dust or dusty memories? The un-insisted presence doesn’t haunt that much, I think...mysteriously impressive…*10*
I used to hate dust but you managed to give it a whole new perspective. well done!
Hi ONElia, I have read this poem again today and thinking about seventh and 8th sense.
Another beautiful meditation on an everyday thing - you add mystery and atmosphere to all you look at, One. x Jan
Too much of dust and dusty room looks haunted only...no wonder you're afraid of a ghost...nice poem
Why do you insist, you are alone? It is proved: Most of the skin - once shed becomes 'house dust'... Very delicate and fine verses, ONElia. A thin line between seen and unseen.......10.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Onelia, you are a mystical poet. All is dust if the heart doesn’t respond. On the eyes imprints numberless, On the dust the footprints impress; So long as the heart does not record, No sense can ever bliss afford.