Late September Dream

Though sad and melancholic, Sir Autumn does keep the kies of some memories and dreams.

Early visions of new dawn
enter the existence window to mourn
the last thoughts of an autumnal night.
September, an ancient fellow drags
through its muddy roads
the dead summer's corpse into evanescent demise.
Heaven falls hugging its ground
to stir up memories of early creation
to play the hearts nostalgic vibes
of the days vanished like a traveling bird
through heaps of hours and tones times.
there the child runnig bare footed
celebrating the heavenly pour
there is the window pale and silently cry
there springs the mist from the unknown
spreading mysteries and white lost.
September, an ancient fellow knits the dark
spectra of the good past
but alas! and alas!
like the drops of dewy flowers
memories flee the morning lights.

Author's Note

Take off your brain and start reading with a child's heart.

Reviews

[John Preston]

A child's heart Ha'
Well past that age long ago.
liked this, read fast and it's very good.

Nice

[anne]

so beautifully written...:)

[Matching Socks]

Lovely write, I love the author's note. :)

[little thoughts]

very well said and beautifully written

[Skai Rain]

Personally, I find it beautiful. I don't look at poetry for rhythm. To me, real poetry is basically just words with heart and meaning; I believe this holds that true.

[Anna Blackburn]

I think that the thought was great, but I also found it hard to be pulled in. The poem may lack a certain rhythmic tone.

[A.M. Al-Ali]

First, I heartedly thank you for reviewing my writing.
seconed, I think modernism and post-modernism writing rely on some kind of inner music that springs out of contradiction and other figures of speech like paradox.
although I admit that stylistic rhythm is required in poetry.

[Anna Blackburn]

What I meant by rhythm, was that a poem should have a certain flow; like a river flowing over the rocks on a riverbed, not like on a windy day when the wind fights with the river and makes choppy waves. Reading your poem was like going against the nature of the words. (And I don't mean to be rude if that's how I sound)

[Alex Leong]

Enjoying every bit of it...