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In The Gold Room - A Harmony

Rating: 3.2

Her ivory hands on the ivory keys
Strayed in a fitful fantasy,
Like the silver gleam when the poplar trees
Rustle their pale-leaves listlessly,
Or the drifting foam of a restless sea
When the waves show their teeth in the flying breeze.

Her gold hair fell on the wall of gold
Like the delicate gossamer tangles spun
On the burnished disk of the marigold,

Or the sunflower turning to meet the sun
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Ratnakar Mandlik 16 October 2016

bleeding wounds of pomegranate Marvelous conceptualization. Thanks for sharing it here.

1 0 Reply

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