The Rooms Spoke to Me.
Chill breezes capture thoughts of grace
Grief and sorrow disappear.
The rocking chair and flower vase
Remind me of a time most dear.
The rooms speak loudly
And I cannot relate
I hold my grief proudly
On a sterling plate.
I become the mask
And the mask becomes me.
The rooms dare to ask
What people cannot see.
If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.
Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) American poet.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| The Bridesmaid's Reception | 1 | 09/28/2009 |
| Crimes of the Heart | 1 | 09/26/2009 |
| Lucy's Diamond's in the Sky | 0 | 09/26/2009 |
| The Monk's Morning | 0 | 09/26/2009 |
| Mysterious Pathway | 2 | 09/26/2009 |
| Love is Here Again | 1 | 09/25/2009 |
| Hello to a Friend I Have Not Yet Met | 0 | 09/25/2009 |
| The Moon's Agreement | 0 | 09/25/2009 |
| The Devil Speaks Softly | 2 | 09/25/2009 |
| Tell Them, He Said | 0 | 09/25/2009 |
| The Face in the Mirror | 0 | 09/25/2009 |
| The Rooms Spoke to Me. | 0 | 09/25/2009 |
| When the Party Ended at Twilight | 0 | 09/25/2009 |
| An Ode to my Ghost | 0 | 09/25/2009 |
| The Horse Race | 0 | 09/25/2009 |
| No One Else Can Take Your Place | 0 | 09/25/2009 |
| While Good Men Sleep | 0 | 09/25/2009 |
| The Stranger on the Train | 1 | 09/24/2009 |
| Water on Rocks | 1 | 09/24/2009 |
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