A dream of waldon's pond

By Jessica Orr

The house on the hill;
it wavers about 
lost Sundays 
and it thinks it was good;
but it doesn't talk,
well.

The door it's fine,
a solid day
that knows the blistering
of the meaning in rays-
the beat-down 
of imperial sun,
the cool nights 
of a serious moon.

The hall is an end 
to the room within,
and sinking ships
did spin;
as air is coarse
in any seashore
when match is met
and pressure builds-

the rest of a life
there's wind,
and sand 
and hiding...
can be beautiful
even at night.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2015 Jessica Orr
Published on Tuesday, May 5, 2015.     Filed under: "Depressed" and "Poetry"

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Comments on "A dream of waldon's pond"

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  • carlosjackal On Monday, May 18, 2015, carlosjackal (2446)By person wrote:

    This is so, so good. Took me to a wonderful dream-like place. Blissful stuff and so very well written.

  • FadedBlues On Wednesday, May 6, 2015, FadedBlues (3003)By person wrote:

    ...beauty in the daylight & the darkness. nice write...

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