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This entry is for One Deep Breath. The prompt is: Frost.
I decided to enter this for the Write Stuff Poetry contest. The theme is: cold, bitter. I thought this fits the theme just right.
leaves in icicles
nature's young hearts encased
in winter's ice home
born on winter's end
tomorrow still exist for
those standing still in
winter's frosted air
shattered but not broken
waiting in the shadows
in hopes of seeing
the sun's rays spinning in the naked sky
to allure us to a
metamorphic state
life's fragile smile upon us
hope here at world's end
Frost
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lissa
15 Post A Comment:
wow, lissa! great haikus!
Well done, Lissa! God bless.
Writing in Faith
Oh, these are wonderful! Wonderful. born on winter's end, spinning in the naked sky, life's fragile smile - each one better than the one before. Wonderful!
Happy new year!
I love your series, in particular the sun rays spinning on the naked sky.
hey Lissa !
This is marvelous- and quite the picture of Maine these days!
Thank you also for your comments- I love them all, and please don't hesitate. Sure, I love to give gifts! My musings were about other kinds of gifts.
Happy New Year!!
~abraham
what a lovely string of haikus... it carries a meassage as a whole,, or can be seen in a singular light... i particularly enjoyed the last one...
metamorphic state
life's fragile smile upon us
hope here at world's end
i love "winter's frosted air...shattered but not broken..."
it gives word to my love/hate relationship with this season of beauty (but i like the warm, i can't help it)
happy new year!!
Very well done...one haiku feeding off of the other. I love haiku done this way.
S
those are beautiful...
I particularly like the sound and message in the second entry.
Lovely.
I just voted for you. :-)
What a wonderfully descriptive piece. Wonderful.
Than kyou so much for dropping in on my story. Your comments are very appreciated.
I like it. Lovely and lyrical.
I really love this. You never cease to amaze me with your talent.
This is a seriously good poem. The first stanza leads through the images to the final thought, a coherent string of truly poetic observations and turns of phrase. I would not be one bit disappointed in the voters if your poem won the contest. It would be deserving.
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Saying what we think gives us a wider conversational range than saying what we know.
Cullen Hightower