dippy poem
Posted 04-14-2009 at 11:01 PM by dead4crow
i found this poem...i apparently wrote it when i was a kid. it was supposed to be a beginning for a child's book. anyway, what do you think?
Sitting there, all nice and square
The child stared upon the ground.
The child was small, her hair was fell,
Upon her face, petite and round.
Water scraped across her cheek
And landed softly on her vest.
Bare and cold, were tiny feet.
That peeked from under the tiny dress.
She watched the sky that yawned the moon
And thought about the coming day.
About the time it came too soon,
And scared her friends all away.
From her mouth, wide and fair
Came scores of crows that flapped and cried.
They poured and flew into the air,
Pushing darkness into the night.
Now she stands before the dawn,
With feathers and beaks around her face.
Her stomach giving winged songs
Lifted and stretched across the place.
With hands folded to the day
Her journey is to watch the way
Her tales take root into the ground.
Sitting there, all nice and square
The child stared upon the ground.
The child was small, her hair was fell,
Upon her face, petite and round.
Water scraped across her cheek
And landed softly on her vest.
Bare and cold, were tiny feet.
That peeked from under the tiny dress.
She watched the sky that yawned the moon
And thought about the coming day.
About the time it came too soon,
And scared her friends all away.
From her mouth, wide and fair
Came scores of crows that flapped and cried.
They poured and flew into the air,
Pushing darkness into the night.
Now she stands before the dawn,
With feathers and beaks around her face.
Her stomach giving winged songs
Lifted and stretched across the place.
With hands folded to the day
Her journey is to watch the way
Her tales take root into the ground.
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