FREE VERSE POEM: Moods of the Days
When it drizzles,
ever so slightly,
like a mist of freshness,
cool to the touch,
that always feels wonderful,
especially on summer days.
When the sun shines,
even through the clouds,
yet still it rains,
a thrilling sight.
Those are the times,
I feel a glowing contentment,
spread throughout me,
as I skip through the streets.
All my worries float away,
on the magical blanket,
that only mist can form.
When it pours,
and it's muddy and cold,
the earthworms wriggling,
glistening and pink.
When the twigs,
so tiny,
are pressed until they snap,
by the relentless rain,
coming down furiously.
Those are the days,
I feel gloomy,
tired and without stamina,
ready to collapse,
short-tempered.
When it snows,
all fluffy whiteness,
like soft feathers,
resting gently on the ground.
And the sparkling specks,
follow careening paths,
twirling and flipping,
as they try to reach the ground.
That's the season,
when I am always wide-awake,
alert and watchful,
the light reflecting from the snow,
dazzling in my eyes.
When the wind chills,
a knife slashing across the skin,
stripping the leaves from the branches,
whisking away the garbage cans.
That's the time,
when I shiver,
and wish I could go to sleep,
but the wind does not permit it.
My favorite kind of day,
is when it's the beginning of spring,
where everything is green,
when newborn animals,
come out to begin their life in the world.
The sun shines,
a gentle, warm glow,
not stifling,
not humid in the least.
The wind blows,
a gentle, soft breeze,
that blows my hair back,
and lets the leaves fly,
swirling up their small tornadoes.
The air is fresh,
with a smell saying, "NEW!"
neither cold nor hot,
but warm and cool.
This kind of day,
the best of them all,
is the time when I am happiest,
light as a feather,
as if nothing in the world,
no matter how heavy,
could ever weigh down my high spirits.
I can't help but be cheerful,
in my mysterious way,
and when I am frustrated,
all that is needed,
is a look at the lively world outside.
Putting aside for the moment the abundance of unnecessary commas everywhere, I didn't know I was capable of being this descriptive. Whoo, I actually shivered imagining all that.
ever so slightly,
like a mist of freshness,
cool to the touch,
that always feels wonderful,
especially on summer days.
When the sun shines,
even through the clouds,
yet still it rains,
a thrilling sight.
Those are the times,
I feel a glowing contentment,
spread throughout me,
as I skip through the streets.
All my worries float away,
on the magical blanket,
that only mist can form.
When it pours,
and it's muddy and cold,
the earthworms wriggling,
glistening and pink.
When the twigs,
so tiny,
are pressed until they snap,
by the relentless rain,
coming down furiously.
Those are the days,
I feel gloomy,
tired and without stamina,
ready to collapse,
short-tempered.
When it snows,
all fluffy whiteness,
like soft feathers,
resting gently on the ground.
And the sparkling specks,
follow careening paths,
twirling and flipping,
as they try to reach the ground.
That's the season,
when I am always wide-awake,
alert and watchful,
the light reflecting from the snow,
dazzling in my eyes.
When the wind chills,
a knife slashing across the skin,
stripping the leaves from the branches,
whisking away the garbage cans.
That's the time,
when I shiver,
and wish I could go to sleep,
but the wind does not permit it.
My favorite kind of day,
is when it's the beginning of spring,
where everything is green,
when newborn animals,
come out to begin their life in the world.
The sun shines,
a gentle, warm glow,
not stifling,
not humid in the least.
The wind blows,
a gentle, soft breeze,
that blows my hair back,
and lets the leaves fly,
swirling up their small tornadoes.
The air is fresh,
with a smell saying, "NEW!"
neither cold nor hot,
but warm and cool.
This kind of day,
the best of them all,
is the time when I am happiest,
light as a feather,
as if nothing in the world,
no matter how heavy,
could ever weigh down my high spirits.
I can't help but be cheerful,
in my mysterious way,
and when I am frustrated,
all that is needed,
is a look at the lively world outside.
Putting aside for the moment the abundance of unnecessary commas everywhere, I didn't know I was capable of being this descriptive. Whoo, I actually shivered imagining all that.
No comments:
Post a Comment