Dry
From my fingers, colours refuse to flow
Images form in my eyes
And stay in the crevices as frozen beads
Like shining wefts protected by my brow
I wait for dreams to melt and grow
I wait to reap my own inherent desires
posted by Juhi Dua at 9:05 PM
5 Comments:
beautiful :) may i add u to my list of links?
12:48 AM
sure thing.
12:57 AM
splendid :)..btw lo u shud read Ju's archives, she speaks of dreams like no other.. read her fully and u wud know why I keep coming back.. :)
5:37 AM
thank you :) @ Juhi
Sure will @ Fish
6:42 AM
Something is missing in this poem. It has the potential to wow but it is falling short. Maybe I'll have to come back to figure it out. :-)
But this is my opinion. You're the poet! The prerogative is yours! :-)
The imagery in the first line is superb.
Cheers
D
12:33 AM
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