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Poetry
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| The Butterfly Net | |
| By Pie | ||||||
| 08 December 2007 | ||||||
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Be gentle with me; I'm a first-timer! No, seriously, all honest criticism (both positive and negative) would be very much appreciated. Please particularly comment on your first impressions of the poem and any ideas relating plot. Many thanks, ladies and gentlemen. The carriage clock is ticking The streetlamp is flitting Light lost its colour and pain lost its stake You're lying in velour Awaiting a nightmare Hoping that one or the other will break Beyond the glass window the dawn sky is rising Where shrouds like black leather had settled before Witness it now Your life force is spilling Down cracks in the floorboards and under the door From miles away Your Mother can sense it Thunder rains on her morning sweat Destined to happen One way or another Her delicate baby The butterfly net It's about time somebody came to find you The carriage clock stopped at twenty past The purple drapes shiver Burdened by silence Not all shiny pennies were moulded to last
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