Childhood

by Xanthe   Aug 24, 2012


My
lilies
grow at the
touch of your voice;
with every promise
breathed on the nape of my
neck, a single petal turns
white whilst thorns thrust deeper into
my palm 'til the night finally fades
...I am left with a bouquet of my past.

08/17/12
Etheree
For a club contest.

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Latest Comments

  • 11 years ago

    by Decayed

    That looks like a Cedar;

    another perfect piece by you.

    I have read it now more than 5 times.

  • 11 years ago

    by Meme

    I can see a vivid picture of a blooming lily in my head, every new grown petal! So clear in my head..

    Its like this persons voice is watering you, its a one of a kind metaphor that I never came across before. I love it. And yes, I always love it when poets use whispered promises, it add something different than just saying simply promises. But then the picture take another turn when you mention the deeply thrusting thorns, eeeekkk that image was powerful to me!

    And you had one of the best endings I read in a while, I love the idea of being left with a bouquet of your past, cause I seem to be dragging my own pasts' bouquet!

    Nominated next week for sure :)

  • 11 years ago

    by Tara Kay

    I don't think I have read anything of yours before, or at least commented...

    I love the essence of an Etheree, short poems can hold so much emotion...if done correctly...and you certainly added heart to this piece...

    It is beautiful and sad at the same time...with some really great lines...

    I think this symbolises regret and a lost childhood, being forced to grow up too quickly and forgetting the need to play and be free.

    Really nice piece, Xanthe

    x

  • 11 years ago

    by Darren

    What a great poem, you have set the bar high with this one, the rest of your club will have to come up with something amazing to beat this.
    I love the whole atmosphere of this poem, i think the last line is great, 'bouquet of my past' it makes me think of all the things we regret and have bunched together as one big bad memory.

    Great write.

  • 11 years ago

    by Yrem Crish

    This poem is deserve to win...you write it like in a magic way...you're so brilliant, Xanthe. I always salute you for writing awesome poems and this one, is another excellent piece!