Far away
The maiden waits,
Dressed in sorrow
Veiled in alone
She hungers,
As passion fuels
The tears of hidden lies
Buried amidst the fruit
Ripened deeply
Within her
Tender blessings yield to
Wistful regrets
As day to day
Becomes tomorrow
And time beckons her
To forget
Far away
The maiden waits…
haven’t been poeting for sometim now… anyway, i thought this one sounded nice, very heine
I don’t mean to sound full of disdain, but I don’t seem to realize the significance of poetry that doesn’t rhyme (but I’d like to because it seems easier to write).
I see it a lot on this site. Anyone care to explain?
The distinction between poetry and prose is not clear. Poetry is basically anything that is not saying directly what it means to say. It is a lot more free form and allows for more complex and layered symbolism.
And least that’s my understanding of it. Personally, I like rhymes.
northcutt, Schumann said: “my whole life’s about the struggle between poetry and prose.” So I think: if one doesn’t have such a struggle in the first place, life must be pretty boring.
Ahh, thanks for the info guys.