Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Of Wasted Lands

I dressed my words in blue velvet
lay them out behind a purpled bruise shroud
of nightingales song
then screamed them through old thyme
with the burning of black rose
and still you turned the tides against me

How long do I wait
for the cry of blackbirds
to empty from the wells in my eyes
How long do I wait
for your goodbye to greet me
Just to know my words
were not the wasted lands
Of a nomad lost


  1. awwwwwwww sad but beautiful x

  2. Waiting for signs.

    This poem is beautifully done! :)

  3. I really love this Beez. You pack so much beauty into so few words.

  4. Dear Beez

    I have felt many of the same emotions. Your poetry is very beautiful.