Broad sun-stoned beaches.
White heat.
A green river.
A bridge,
scorched yellow palms
from the summer-sleeping house
drowsing through August.
Days I have held,
days I have lost,
days that outgrow, like daughters,
my harbouring arms.
Odd. Mostly I enjoy the psychology of colors and what they trigger your mind to think.
Ornamentation with colorful vibrants make me stunned to thread the thought of poet. When daughter the word appeared at catastrophe understood the universal lines..... Days I have held, days I have lost, ...................................Excellent indeed.
I love the depth of his beautiful words.I love his optimism,and his words.
And the tides high and low makes life glow. The crawling waves make life be blessed and the sun high up smile to see its reflection.... beautiful poetic reflection. Old memories refreshing.
Lovely poems. I dread the day i will stop harbouring my daughter, but, its gotta be done.
Congratulations being chosen by Poem Hunter and Team as The Modern Powm Of The Day.5 Stars! I have enjoyed this very iteresting poem.
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He's writing about growing old on St. Lucia, a Caribbean paradise.... All by itself, that is incredibly beautiful to ponder. Yellow scorched palms and white heat aren't attempts to wax poetically or to give some ethereal meaning to color as much as they are markers, intended to put the readers mind on that beach and in that beach house during sweltering afternoon naps. And that's right where it put me. Beautiful poem, and the poet is quite aware of his blessings, to which he includes daughters...