Post by envision on Nov 12, 2005 19:11:47 GMT -5
I love this, I mean, I love my poetry, but I love this one. I oft day/dream of worlds where things are rearranged - orange grass, green sky, white trees, yellow water...*shrug*
Orange Smelling Air
Orange smelling air greets my senses
with cyan skies and white wash clouds.
Crouching in a sandbox I feel a smile touch my lips.
From somewhere I though was gone
I say “won’t you come and play?”
We can run up mountainsides and leap over forest trees,
Next we’ll see if the stratosphere can really keep us here,
or if we think we’ll fail only because its never been done before.
If the sun retires to his place rest,
We can roll down the hillside
and let the verdant green stain our skin.
We’ll flip over and float around,
by the time we hit the ground we’ll laugh at the inconstant moon
And mock yon wayward sun.
To play Romeo and Juliet;
you can be the Capulet, which makes me a Montague.
Should the ghostly night clouds come
to hide away the moon and all her diamond rings.
We can swim through the coolness of the luminous earth,
and see all creation, should it strike our fancy.
We swing from fallen trees and drink from fickle streams,
that trickle through golden paths.
Soon enough I’ll understand it all,
as my electric spirit leaves and climbs Jacob’s ancient ladder.
I think I’ll know what it like,
If these words are mystery surely they’ll survive
The centuries.
So when you invite me to your table,
We can smile as we speak of the wonderful time we had somewhere.
We’ll remember skin soiled by God’s paint, and the way the wind
caught our hair and blew us away,
on orange smelling air.
Orange Smelling Air
Orange smelling air greets my senses
with cyan skies and white wash clouds.
Crouching in a sandbox I feel a smile touch my lips.
From somewhere I though was gone
I say “won’t you come and play?”
We can run up mountainsides and leap over forest trees,
Next we’ll see if the stratosphere can really keep us here,
or if we think we’ll fail only because its never been done before.
If the sun retires to his place rest,
We can roll down the hillside
and let the verdant green stain our skin.
We’ll flip over and float around,
by the time we hit the ground we’ll laugh at the inconstant moon
And mock yon wayward sun.
To play Romeo and Juliet;
you can be the Capulet, which makes me a Montague.
Should the ghostly night clouds come
to hide away the moon and all her diamond rings.
We can swim through the coolness of the luminous earth,
and see all creation, should it strike our fancy.
We swing from fallen trees and drink from fickle streams,
that trickle through golden paths.
Soon enough I’ll understand it all,
as my electric spirit leaves and climbs Jacob’s ancient ladder.
I think I’ll know what it like,
If these words are mystery surely they’ll survive
The centuries.
So when you invite me to your table,
We can smile as we speak of the wonderful time we had somewhere.
We’ll remember skin soiled by God’s paint, and the way the wind
caught our hair and blew us away,
on orange smelling air.