Dancing With The Clouds Poem by Irene C S ClarkHogg
Dancing With The Clouds
And so, within the mind of man,
The cauldron spits.
Then births the sprite
Capable of freedom
From confining earth.
Scattered papers on the floor
A ball of string
To take the strain
A pot of paste
For thin shaved wood.
Soon, up upon a wind swept moor,
A boy is taken.
Holding fast the token
Of his father's love
And childhood memories.
First heard, screams of delight.
Then flowing tears,
As the sprite tears
The grip and soars aloft
To dance with the clouds.
great poem raining imagery. love it Athena *** words will change the world ***
i wanna dance in the clouds filled with loads of rains. so that i can bath together with all the poeple i loved.good write irene.
always enjoyed the feel of the string...the tug in the sky. beautiful work. -Tailor
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/23/2024 8:10:07 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Here it is Holloween and I am reading this engulfed in images of witches and fire and wild dancing. I am relieved to know that there are good witches.