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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Stardots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Restless_Heart
    Elite Ratio:    5.37 - 44/35/16
    Words: 184
    Class/Type: Story/Passion
    Total Views: 984
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 929



    Description:
       I really don't know...I guess its just a short story...Any advice?


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsStardots
    -------------------------------------------


    Mother moon, Father sun, together they bore a love. With a twinkle in her eye, like all her siblings. And they in a dark blue night surrounded by clouds of dust and rock. She has the beauty of a hundred white nights and thirty blue moons. When she leaves it signifies the coming day. When she reappears she lets me know that the night has fallen. Right after dusk where she saw her father again, even if only for a short while. Everytime she is concealed behind clouds of rain, it saddens me to not see her face. When she is hidden my heart breaks. For she is the one who I love. I love to see her radiant light. It covers me like a beautiful blanket. when she does this I know that she loves me too. I only wonder what she is thinking when I am away, or when she is hidden behind her cousin cloud. And I hope one day, together we'll be. And her father will accept us as a couple. Then will my day be complete, all at night.




    Submitted on 2006-06-19 00:44:08     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!




    ||| Comments |||
      Hmmm, I read most of this with a major grasp on what I thought to be the symbolism of it. I wanted it to be a sort of "ode to the night" as it may, and it still might be. But it refers apparently to an actual girl. And while its beautiful and it references her in an amazing light, I wonder if this was one of the successful relationships, that transcended the emotional poetry to something real and successful, or whether it was another misinterpretation of someone you thought gave a damn. I kind of felt a kindred in your nighttime imagery, there are a lot of things about the night and early morning that make me feel eerily at home. One of the features of this poem I most enjoyed was the intellectual oxymoron you included at the end, about your day being complete, all at night. That made me chuckle. You have a good grasp on diction and imagery, and have enough knowledge of literary devices to make even a short story flow like a poem.
    | Posted on 2008-05-05 00:00:00 | by Passionbyapathy | [ Reply to This ]


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