Shooting Star...

I stand in our lawn,

Looking around, but seeing nothing,

The soft moonlight bathed our lovely garden,

Casting its pixie-dust on the rosebuds and the marigolds,

A true paradigm of accepted beauty,

Yet, it's a beauty that reflects sudden emptiness.

My eyes fill with tears,

Mirroring the moon peeping from the shroud of clouds.

Everything has a touch of her,

My darling mother,

But now, she's made her home elsewhere,

Somewhere beyond the hesitant stars.

She loved everything as she could not hate anything,

She talked to the trees and the climbers,

She sang to the feathered and the furred,

She danced to the rhythm of the gentle brook that flowed by,

And she wrote, read and dreamed about the comets and the stars.

She was a foe to none,

No, she could never be,

Her heart as pure as the rain,

Stood tall in front of dirt like egotism and jealousy.

I brush away my tears,

A sniff and a sigh,

I look up at the sky,

And see a shooting star just pass by.

 

Author's Note

I am really not sure of the genre....according to me, I would classify it as emotions.

Reviews

[lissalovesyou]

Wow. That's all I can say. Wow.

[WindsorWolf28]

Beautiful. Amazing to read.

[Lotus Twilight]

Thanks a lot Windsor!

[Woody]

a moving poem, beautifully penned.