story oh

from a field of woven leaves

and in tune to the whistle of cold and tired sticks

i cringle in behalf of the autumn's few

sometimes I would carry a smile onto a crumbled piece of parchment

and for you to hold onto my words in a misery novel



can we behave like cages for bragging rights of strength

and spin like tops dancing all in one place

come down to the city child and meet yourself...

be yourself



words they come and words they flow and add some beer and watch them go

twirl around and sing alone

sometimes were strong and sometimes we glow

Reviews

[jenniewren (J.W. Bouwma..]

i love the pace in this.. like plodding footsteps, just shy of a dance.. the centre stanza is my favourite because i can just hear you speak it

[Seriana]

Periac, this is probably one of my favorites of yours! The flow was excellent, and I felt as though you wrote it directly to me (the reader). It was like an intimate conversation, and the subtle rhyming was superb. Fabulously done!

[Nicholas Hallows]

sometimes I would carry a smile onto a crumbled piece of parchment - loved this line!

I am intrigued by this piece although not entirely sure I understand it (not unusual for me :).

I really like the tone you have created though. The 'cold and tired sticks' and 'misery novel' convey to me a slight mix of melancholy in the first stanza. But then the references to spinning tops and twirling round gives a carefree, flowing happiness feel. Like I said, I am intrigued!

NH