There’s a certain look
the west woods wear
when it nears
end of day;
they seem to brood,
in a sullen mood,
when their sun
must go away.
Though greens and reds
and browns abound,
all colors
share that shade
of moodiness,
at the somber thought
that daylight
soon will fade.
It’s eerie then
to see the trees
stand still
for what must be.
It’s almost like
the way you fix
your brooding eyes
on me.
Very nice! I enjoyed the flow of the brood, the lively yet depressed speed of the lines.
Nice setup to the shift at the end!
Mary, Love rhyming poems like this one, maybe because they make me think of children’s poems, Lear, and Carroll, and nonsense verse. The ending is genius, and came as a complete surprise!
Thank you for your generous comments. The ending came as a surprise to me as I wrote a poem about the woods!
each time i used to read smaller articles that as well clear
their motive, and that is also happening with this piece of
writing which I am reading now.
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site is in fact fabulous.
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