Metaphorical narrative on love; free form w/ alliteration basis |
Frail Isabella stood amiss a mass Of weeping, kindred souls- They heaved and moaned, The bereaved and alone. She walked amid the mass About the corner cobblestone Who stood about with heads hung low Akin in thoughts doth drifting off, This mass so far from home. The day aloft sails smoothly by And dew frolics atop the grass Beneath the blooming daffodils That grace the sight hence The sighing eyes of a mass Crowded about the corner cobblestone. Slow, so slow, the wind tickles Strands of silk about her face And it serves to reveal A pair of beautiful bulbs Glowing in candescent light. She lay beneath this drooping tree As the progression progresses by Some small child wanders off To find the sight that caught my eye, Oh? I’d say she was nigh’ as old as me. Away I stepped amiss the mass Crowded about the corner cobblestone As the day aloft sails smoothly by A tantalizing step in time Is trod about the funeral yard And roots deep unto my soles Granting light unto the steps Of one so far from home. They say life is but a posey, Such a funny thought, isn’t it? With wandering eyes And drifting feet Floating off ‘aneath the drooping tree He lay to rest a head hung low And was rather successful, Let me tell you. Slow, so slow, he drifted off to sleep Aloft in thoughts ‘aneath the drooping tree Sitting here right next to me Until tender fingers that Just may have been wafting words Gently grabbed shaking hands And cast away imposing dreams- All this and more said the voice, Hello, my name is Isabella. Dark spots hug tight about The doleful sighing eyes The color of a flowing dress That dances about the tips Of dew topped grass Beautiful in a broken right. Wind gently tickles The strands of silk about her face To reveal a lying smile That gently whispers; Follow your heart. |