Tide of Softest Night
Slipping through my hands
Like an hourglass falling
Before the waking Light of day,
Of Ethereal Majesty
Turning in the mercurial void
Undo the hapless, shapeless notions
That spin unhindered in the shades
And Shine in Triumphant Glory
Through every Breathless word
And Shivering Sentiment
These poor pawns of verbose suffrage
May spill upon the page.
.Though I have not been following the NaPoWriMo daily prompts, I thought to challenge myself last evening. Sitting at my laptop, listening to the beguiling sounds of Adrian von Ziegler, I opened a word.doc, closed my eyes and simply wrote. I did not pause until the words tumbling through my mind abated, and this poem was a result.
What is it about? What does it say to you?
And are you willing to accept a similar challenge to allow Inspiration full control?
Beautiful Photograph by: aerialhorizon.photography