She Wanders
The sunlight glides,
Off gold spun hair.
And there she walks,
Graceful; step by step.
The flowers bloom, Grasping.
The birds sing, Longing.
The wind roams, Guiding.
The light cascades, Tasting.
The darkness embraces,
His jet black hair.
And there he follows,
Wanted; pace by pace.
The flowers wilt, Hiding.
The birds quiet, Warning.
The wind shrieks, Frightening.
The light shies, Fleeing.
The dress ripples,
With frolic and play.
And there she dances,
Lovely; waltz by waltz.
The clouds fly, Freed.
The beasts march, Tamed.
The trees rustle, Joyed.
The grass whistles, Entertained.
The suit wrinkles,
With wait and crouch.
And there he stays,
Jealous; time by time.
The clouds leave, Darkened.
The beasts halt, Guarded.
The trees still, Saddened.
The grass shrills, Abandoned.
The breeze tickles,
Ivory bound skin.
And there she laughs,
Beauty; note by note.
The sun shines, Zealous.
The ocean waves, Courteous.
The air warms, Frivolous.
The earth trembles, Righteous.
The draft stings,
Tan muscled skin.
And there he cries,
Doleful; noise by noise.
The sun darkens, Ferocious.
The ocean roars, Perilous.
The air chills, Malicious.
The earth quakes, Thunderous.
The senses tickle,
With knowledge and wisdom.
And there she stands,
Ancient; day by day.
The silence lightens, Dependent.
The chorus dims, Abatement.
The pebbles relax, Confident.
The monsters wait, Abstinent.
The tone changes,
Caught in hand.
And there he freezes,
Guilty; year by year.
The silence thickens, Constringent.
The chorus heightens, Dissident.
The pebbles stiffen, Fervent.
The monsters near, Gradient.
The eyes widen,
With shock and tears.
And there she weeps,
Tragedy; posture by posture.
The muses dream, Believing.
The angels gaze, Watching.
The demons whisper, Knowing.
The world pretends, Forgetting.
The arm stretches,
With love and fear.
And there he stays,
Tragedy; tried and tried.
The muses wake, Inspiring.
The angels retreat, Finishing.
The demons jeer, Tormenting.
The world deceives, Reenacting.
And so they reach forever,
Lovers lost and tried.
Forever grasping:
To the sound of the Bells.
Off gold spun hair.
And there she walks,
Graceful; step by step.
The flowers bloom, Grasping.
The birds sing, Longing.
The wind roams, Guiding.
The light cascades, Tasting.
The darkness embraces,
His jet black hair.
And there he follows,
Wanted; pace by pace.
The flowers wilt, Hiding.
The birds quiet, Warning.
The wind shrieks, Frightening.
The light shies, Fleeing.
The dress ripples,
With frolic and play.
And there she dances,
Lovely; waltz by waltz.
The clouds fly, Freed.
The beasts march, Tamed.
The trees rustle, Joyed.
The grass whistles, Entertained.
The suit wrinkles,
With wait and crouch.
And there he stays,
Jealous; time by time.
The clouds leave, Darkened.
The beasts halt, Guarded.
The trees still, Saddened.
The grass shrills, Abandoned.
The breeze tickles,
Ivory bound skin.
And there she laughs,
Beauty; note by note.
The sun shines, Zealous.
The ocean waves, Courteous.
The air warms, Frivolous.
The earth trembles, Righteous.
The draft stings,
Tan muscled skin.
And there he cries,
Doleful; noise by noise.
The sun darkens, Ferocious.
The ocean roars, Perilous.
The air chills, Malicious.
The earth quakes, Thunderous.
The senses tickle,
With knowledge and wisdom.
And there she stands,
Ancient; day by day.
The silence lightens, Dependent.
The chorus dims, Abatement.
The pebbles relax, Confident.
The monsters wait, Abstinent.
The tone changes,
Caught in hand.
And there he freezes,
Guilty; year by year.
The silence thickens, Constringent.
The chorus heightens, Dissident.
The pebbles stiffen, Fervent.
The monsters near, Gradient.
The eyes widen,
With shock and tears.
And there she weeps,
Tragedy; posture by posture.
The muses dream, Believing.
The angels gaze, Watching.
The demons whisper, Knowing.
The world pretends, Forgetting.
The arm stretches,
With love and fear.
And there he stays,
Tragedy; tried and tried.
The muses wake, Inspiring.
The angels retreat, Finishing.
The demons jeer, Tormenting.
The world deceives, Reenacting.
And so they reach forever,
Lovers lost and tried.
Forever grasping:
To the sound of the Bells.
♠ ♠ ♠
I actually have this poem set up on Facebook the way that it's actually supposed to look but it doesn't work on Mibba. Or at least, it's way too much work. My first attempt to get it to look that way left me coding for two hours, it then proceeded to look like crap *Facepalm*