Jan 062011
A draught of the finest liquor,
Of essence pure and strong,
Tingling its way down, warm
It is a cool breeze blowing,
Scattering the prevailing stillness,
Shaking those things that once stood firm;
Water,
Springing from origins inexhaustible,
Eroding the rocks of resistance,
Passing through those tiny pores,
Reaching the deepest parts,
The flavour of milk is only savoured
After the cow is milked;
Messages hidden in the threads of a tapestry,
Secrets in those beautiful patterns,
Are seen by keen eyes only
The last stanza really wowed me here. This is beautiful Shope.
well done!!!
Had some other crazy stuff running through me mind before you mentioned cow. Ditto shope on the last line somehow. It was more philosophical than wowing. Enjoyed the read.
this is what is called poetry. its should be rich and heady like fresh palm wine…not just a collection of words that a mere toddler would discern as ease. KUDOS!!!!
had to have a second look and the wine in this poem got stronger,,BIG UP!
Thanks y’all.
“It is a cool breeze blowing…shaking those things that once stood firm.”
i like the extremes you painted here.
i feel like drinking this poem
how a poet cooks up such lines as these is waht makes poetry intriguing, thiis is a BOMB
The flavour of milk is only savoured
After the cow is milked;
Messages hidden in the threads of a tapestry,
Secrets in those beautiful patterns,
Are seen by keen eyes only
Beautiful…
deep