This life is no metaphor-
fallen like an autumn leaf,
bright from the point of view of a passer by.
Long nights hemmed in busy days-
trying to save the light
in the darkness of a yearbook.
This life is no metaphor-
cold like November rain,
warm from the point of view of a coffee cup.
Treasure like a saved memory,
Familiar like a well read book-
each line bridging the gaps within.
♥
Hi Archita! How you are doing? Missing your posts. This is a lovely poem.Love and best wishes to you and yours
Doing alright here. Days are so busy that I take moments to calm down and then hold a pen. I always make my mind still like water before jotting down my thoughts. I miss you and your posts. So whenever I am around, I go to your place and see what you are up to. Love and regards to you and uncle. ❤
Blessings from me and uncle. I can understand how busy you might be. We have passed that stage, dear children grow up very quickly.
Long time ago.like a true story.was a beoutiful.girl.from a paradice.place.She was single.and beoutie.in everything.like a angel.compare with.a star.In a dark night.traveling.araund the room.near window.she stay.lisen to the stars.she look around.the horizont.and see the water.moving.and lisen the wind.Across the horizont.she see.a luckier beoutiful.starting a love.day by day.The luckier was coming.every day.like a dark wind.across her body.in her room.After a time.she start to sing.and say coming to me lucifer.coming.to my room.and make a lith.in my life.He was lisening.and was coming like a dead man.he say.the father .is the sky.and the mather.is the water.taling.her.to go with he.in a palace.from stone.and all the fish.will.be lisening to her.The girl said.you are .beotiful.like a star.but in your way.I do not go.never.You like a dead.with no life.and your .eyes.is cold.In the same.time.Catalin.a boy.from house.start.to put.wine.in cup.at the table.very red in face.start.to make.love.and they.start.to be.happy.
Loved reading on a warm autumn afternoon. Days are short but so amazing to read your poem after months.
Days are short and that’s one big inspiration for my writing.