misty

There was a day when you were blonde and I was black

The time I was aware"I love being black!

The time had not remained

Till you sprinkled a shade of light in my mouth.

(You see, all recollections are shelved,

 Sealed and undisturbed, until you taste my worth.)

 

Then the days briskly paced,

Without me, not, ignoring the scent of your sleeves,

With me letting you twirl a tie in that samurai hair.

More often than not, I’m a blade of sarcasm.

Then you had been  my sheath of praise, my lace.

 

We went along together; easy with the cakes,

We lent each other’s brush-like hands

Whenever we try to write our minds.

 

Oh ,Cronus, would you lend me your grasp.

I implore you to spin everything through your hand.

 

I can see no more

     For it is misty outside.

Reviews

[SnatchBreath]

very redundant writing,
for me,i felt like i was watching paint dry....

[seath]

i thank you for taking a great deal of time in glancing at the iridescent hues of my verse painting,as u would put it in your metaphor,,, however the style here which had bee employed by the writer had been devised to create emphasis ,e,i., the repetition,--- not just a mere form of redundancy or pleonasm.

[gabrielle]

"There was a day when you were blonde and I was black" This is very intriguing line.
as i read on, it spoke to me of a relationship:specifically friendship- where one has emotional baggage and the other provided a helping hand. At the beginning, they were sure that what they have is friendship but eventually feelings changed. The voice in this piece appears to be confused of the status of the relationship as the other is giving him mixed signals.
i may not be able to get your intended meaning on this but i really enjoyed making interpretations on your piece.

[seath]

thank you for taking the time to read this verse of mine. i've provided fragments of real events here and a hodgepodge of my inner self's somewhat perplexed voice.