Cold embers. Old shadow selves forgotten.
Yet orange - is the color of hope.
An orange sun shouts “tag” to mountain peaks.
In sunrise mist a deer ascends a slope,
Blue mountains uncover their trees,
They twist and yawn,
Green branches stretch their twigs.
So nibble, nibble, nibble tame horse.
Your roan mane curls – the sleepy lake reflects.
Two eyes that burn the morning fog – for me
Sleek body, raging roars awake the birds.
I’d ride this tiger barefoot on bareback,
To leave you orange paw prints
For your songs.
Orange
© Copyright: Athena, 2003
Свидетельство о публикации №103070200439
Свидетельство о публикации №103070200439
Рецензии
Our drunken song... It must have been too loud.
My feet are dangling from the jumbo's side -
Best vehilce for a long safari ride,
Best view of hills whose fog is our cloud.
The handler stops our elephant to show
Some tiger paw prints on the dusty path,
Like fedayeen of routed Ba'ath.
To cut it short, before it gets to long -
That's how we got paw prints for a song.
Mahalingam 24.07.2003 17:23 • Заявить о нарушении
My feet are dangling from the jumbo's side -
Best vehilce for a long safari ride,
Best view of hills whose fog is our cloud.
The handler stops our elephant to show
Some tiger paw prints on the dusty path,
Like fedayeen of routed Ba'ath.
To cut it short, before it gets to long -
That's how we got paw prints for a song.
Mahalingam 24.07.2003 17:23 • Заявить о нарушении
This is wonderful!!!
Especially the pun at the end :o)))
Thank you!
Athena 24.07.2003 18:22 Заявить о нарушении
Especially the pun at the end :o)))
Thank you!
Athena 24.07.2003 18:22 Заявить о нарушении