Thursday, December 23, 2010

The Smoothing


'Take the last line of one of your own poems and make it the first line of a new one.'
The words in blue are the last lines of an old poem called 'Letters'.


Faded ink and faded paper;
Faded words and faded dreams.
Names and faces half-forgotten;
Residues of shattered schemes.
Once it seemed recall would hurt me;
Bitterness would rule the day.
Once it seemed I'd hurt for ever,
Wishing memories away.
Did he deal with me unfairly?
Did I hate him for a while?
Now old age has smoothed the creases;
I can think of him and smile.


The trees stand up like brushes
Against the morning sky.
We can almost hear them thinking
Which colour shall I try?'
The palette is so varied,
It must make them all rejoice.
Count the colours if you can.
You'll see they're spoilt for choice.


Anonymous said...

As always your words are a glorious pallette/ palate for all the senses.:O)

Anonymous said...

The first one made me smile! Its true time heals - but thats the last thing you want to hear at the time!!

Anonymous said...

I enjoyed both of these very much, and empathised with the first - been there, done that ...

Anonymous said...

Loved both of these. The creases, smoothing, and smiles were especially charming!


PS the Captcha code was "recon," exactly what we're doing! Funny.