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    dots Submission Name: Rosetower Conclavedots

    Author: Porcelaine
    ASL Info:    27/F/Croatia
    Elite Ratio:    3.9 - 880/703/256
    Words: 180
    Class/Type: Poetry/Longing
    Total Views: 665
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1110

       Written at 2 am...why the hell wasn't I sleeping?

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

    dotsRosetower Conclavedots

    I sprout this heart through wild and thick
    Veil of the shadows on snow
    And mind not your footsteps that circle the forest
    And close in and sink in and grow

    The stars are like embers on campfire ash
    That smoke through the wild of this eve
    And lit up the cold and warm up the air
    For those with a heart on their sleeve

    The martyrs, the sailors, the newcomer kings
    That wither away like the mist
    Never stay long in rosetower camps
    Else could they cease to exist

    And only for love is waiting the worth
    Like diamonds in rock mine enclave
    The spirits are high when emeralds sing
    The emerald lover's conclave

    To wait is to hurt and suffer the lust
    In fragrance of moonlighter's flowers
    That ever so toxic wait for the victims
    With ever intoxicant powers

    I have but a pearl to lit up your eyes
    And naught of the gold to behold
    No sweetest surrender, no silent demise
    But maybe a cure for the cold

    Submitted on 2007-09-17 18:24:24     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    Rate This Submission

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    ||| Comments |||
      Eh. Your rhyme might be off in some parts but look who's talking! The one with the messy syllable count!

    Anyhow, the best stuff is nearly always written in the wee hours of the morning. It's actually the time when one is most vulnerable, and actually, I suppose that would fire up the poet's ability to write. Soothing time, almost.

    The stars are like embers on campfire ash
    That smoke through the wild of this eve
    And lit up the cold and warm up the air
    For those with a heart on their sleeve

    I suppose I am entitled to bad comments too.

    | Posted on 2007-09-19 00:00:00 | by Azuire | [ Reply to This ]
      I love your writings and this is why. It moves with the winding mannerism of grace that few can copy or hope to emulate. Its almost intoxicating to behold as you go through it and try to grasp the meaning, but then you fall short only to relize you had it the whloe time. Look to hand I think the meanin gis lost in its beauty...
    | Posted on 2007-09-18 00:00:00 | by BrokenNexava | [ Reply to This ]
      This poem is beautiful in its rhyme scheme and cadence! It is mysterious, and yet delightful, leaving the readers own fancy to derive the meaning. Its mood is like wistful twilight thoughts one might have, drifting off to slumber while staring at a starlit sky! I enjoyed reading this!
    | Posted on 2007-09-18 00:00:00 | by Ron Cole | [ Reply to This ]
      Ah, what an extremely lilting piece! I love the cadence of this poem. Not many on this site are capable of such a thing...I really loved this poem! bravo... bravo... bravo ... michael
    | Posted on 2007-09-18 00:00:00 | by Algol46 | [ Reply to This ]
      I find that some of the greatest stuff is written late in the night/early in the morning. I don't know why but night seems to give a poet strength and power.

    I really like this poem, even though at first glance it leaves me confused. Then again, some poems don't need to have a meaning. Sometimes they are just beautiful and that is all that matters. I think I'll take another look at it later and see if I can pull out a distinct meaning.

    Wonderful poem. Keep up the good work!
    Rosetower, how your thorns twist
    How your height ends in glorious red
    How you capture my eyes
    As I fall....
    | Posted on 2007-09-18 00:00:00 | by manwithnoname | [ Reply to This ]

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