Inkfall

The misery (or is it fortune) of a young writer on a summer day as he writes on his lawn.

Summer days are the best to write, 

Wandering like wind the words start to take flight

Higher they ascend and gather in phrase,

Together form title and attract the viewer's gaze.

Now over the skyscrapers, now over the rooftops,

The quotes are rising too fast, the conjunctions cannot be stopped!

The author panics completely out of control,

For he cannot contain his sentences for once and for all.

His inkwell has lost pace, his fountain pen well spilt

What kind of paragraph can these mad words quilt?

Tearfully he looks up to the inky dark sky,

His words all lost, their father about to cry.

At last the black shower begins to pour,

Raindrops of chapters falling to an unknown world.

Somewhere in the rain, an young reader looks out his door,

The story are coming, just wait a bit more.

Author's Note

Please leave a comment! Compliments and criticism are what makes an writer grow :)

Reviews

[Philip Muls]

I like the out-of-control feel of your poem. Could it be that good writing erupts from the soul rather than the mind and therefore it is more intuition than controlled thought.

Well done.

[MeithaSoekotjo]

I think the author has a complicated Summer season in this poem.
I wonder with the story or stories that is or are coming...
It or they could be in some other "season" than that Summer.
Thanks for sharing the poem!

[Kirasoul]

Thank you for your kind words, Meitha!

[MeithaSoekotjo]

You're welcome! ;)

[V]

The use of words is nice but the rhythm you tried to create reads really clumsy. I think this one needs a thought over revise.

[Kirasoul]

I do feel the pacing of my words a bit rushed at times and sometimes simply dropped off (something I must work on along with many problems of my poetry) Thank you for pointing that out, Vanessa!

[V]

You're welcome.

[Coyote Poetry]

You made the Summer days seem sad and lonely.
"At last the black shower begins to pour,
Raindrops of chapters falling to an unknown world.
Somewhere in the rain, an young reader looks out his door,
The story are coming, just wait a bit more."
Sadness can make us write. Summer day or not. I liked the thoughts and the above ending. Black rain does make us remember the dark days. Thank you for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote

[Kirasoul]

Thank you for your kind words, Coyote :)

[Coyote Poetry]

Was my pleasure and you are welcome.