I've been thinking
I watched a movie about a poet – Keats
Perhaps this is a poem
perhaps not
I spill my coffee on my hand
warm and wet and fragrant
It runs down my sleeve
chilling and icky
The leaves blow around me in madness
golden and red
A red tailed hawk soars by going about her business
golden and red
I am late, what does it matter
time slides away
I am alive
sad and alone
I remember you
I remember you
(Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:—do I wake or sleep?) Keats
Perhaps this is a poem
perhaps not
I spill my coffee on my hand
warm and wet and fragrant
It runs down my sleeve
chilling and icky
The leaves blow around me in madness
golden and red
A red tailed hawk soars by going about her business
golden and red
I am late, what does it matter
time slides away
I am alive
sad and alone
I remember you
I remember you
(Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:—do I wake or sleep?) Keats
Replies
Very Well Done !
To sleep perchance to dream?
To dream perhaps to live?
very well done....I\'m no poet but it sounds like a poem to me....
take care...hugs, Sandi
It is poetry if it speaks to you.
Linda
A poem or thoughts, all the same, sad place to be. Wishes for better times and nicer thoughts.
Paula
Poetry is what speaks to you. This one speaks to me and it echo\'s so true. Hope that you are feeling better. Seems we need to get ready for another winter, wasn\'t that just a few secons ago ? Time flys far to fast........Jane
beautiful poetry!
excellent poem with a touching ode to Keats. xxxxx Hope you are OK.