Title: Speak to Me
Author: RaliNeoBlade
Author’s Notes: OK, I have to admit, I like this one. Yeah, I wrote it in Algebra, too, how weird is that? Anyway, it’s a poem that plays on words. It’s meaning is nothing and everything. See how you like! By the way, I own this poem completely, so don’t use it w/o my permission.
When nights are cold and dreary
I huddle in bed, on the verge of sleep
The shadows seem to speak to me
A quiet and soothing murmur
Of things past and things to come
Of joy, of hate, of triumph
Things of old, not yet told
Before nights so cold and dreary
When I huddle in bed, on the verge of sleep.
When days are dark and storming
I sit, watching raindrops fall
Each tear from heaven tells me
A story of all its own
Of things good and things so evil
That only in whispers should be heard
Tales of yore, not heard before
Ere days so dark and storming
As I sit, watching raindrops fall.
When twilight is soft and wondrous
I look to the moon in silent prayer
The twinkling stars start chiming
In voices of silver light
Of hopes, of dreams, of life
Of secrets locked in hearts of ice
Secrets to fear, forgotten to ear
Before twilight so soft and wondrous
When I look to the moon in silent prayer.
RaliNeoBlade: Well? What are you doing just sitting there? REVIEW! Tell me what you think, and RATE this poem on a scale of one to ten. (Ten being best.) THANX!!!!!
Author: RaliNeoBlade
Author’s Notes: OK, I have to admit, I like this one. Yeah, I wrote it in Algebra, too, how weird is that? Anyway, it’s a poem that plays on words. It’s meaning is nothing and everything. See how you like! By the way, I own this poem completely, so don’t use it w/o my permission.
When nights are cold and dreary
I huddle in bed, on the verge of sleep
The shadows seem to speak to me
A quiet and soothing murmur
Of things past and things to come
Of joy, of hate, of triumph
Things of old, not yet told
Before nights so cold and dreary
When I huddle in bed, on the verge of sleep.
When days are dark and storming
I sit, watching raindrops fall
Each tear from heaven tells me
A story of all its own
Of things good and things so evil
That only in whispers should be heard
Tales of yore, not heard before
Ere days so dark and storming
As I sit, watching raindrops fall.
When twilight is soft and wondrous
I look to the moon in silent prayer
The twinkling stars start chiming
In voices of silver light
Of hopes, of dreams, of life
Of secrets locked in hearts of ice
Secrets to fear, forgotten to ear
Before twilight so soft and wondrous
When I look to the moon in silent prayer.
RaliNeoBlade: Well? What are you doing just sitting there? REVIEW! Tell me what you think, and RATE this poem on a scale of one to ten. (Ten being best.) THANX!!!!!