The sculptress
She feels the muddy, supple texture
moving, rolling, through her fingers
Forming, twisting, hands at work
These sightless eyes will guide her through
For she remembers from the time
When she could see with sightly eyes
A picture forming in her mind
Always embedded in her thoughts
Then she slowly molds a figure
memories that she once had seen
But sight to her is useless now
For she can feel the world with ease
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Although this peom doesn't rhyme you still managed to create a melody and rhythm. Nice work!
ReplyDeleteA lot of the words you used in this poem related to our senses. This made me feel as if I could see, feel..etc. everything you were describing.
ReplyDeleteOnce again, well done. Rythm is always apparent in your works. This was very simple and clean. Straight to the point. Very inspiring and brings a smile to my face. :)
ReplyDeleteYou have a way with words. :)
ReplyDelete