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 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...
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!
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....