Spring

Spring

A Poem by Emily B

I want to be out of doors breathing deep
from blue skies.
I want to roll in the dew-soaked spring grass
like horses do.
And puppies.
I want to grab the wind with tremulous hands
and never let go.
I want to step across mountain tops
and wade in the deepest seas.
I want to sing siren songs and play bathtub games
with little toy ships
that come toddling by.
I want to reach for the heavens
all the while holding to the dear earth.
I want to live histories and learn the knowledge
of all ages.
I want to be. . .

 

 

© 2008 Emily B


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I want to be! I want to be wise, or wiser. I'd like to know where that truth lay, or where destiny hides out. I'd like to feel accompanied even when my company knows my attention is waning. Most of all I'd like my integrity back. I'd like that smile that is offered from the core to never fade away, to never feel ashamed.

I have nowhere to turn, so I am back to these words of mine that have caused so much trouble throughout my time. Someone said to me recently, in anonymous text, " You're a do good'er mother f****r with a penchant that has thwarted my every attempt at Evil, so far...' Well, that makes me quite happy...for evil ought to be thwarted. I didn't even recognize evil before I began to write. In fact I knew very little about lot's of things. These words of yours that you have so kindly given to us reminds me once again of the beauty that is upon me, but which I feel belongs to some time else. I want to be there of course, but I seem to be viewing it all from a safe distance, avoiding the intensity of lust brought on by the thoughts of sitting under a willow tree with a woman I haven't met yet, learning more than I ever new possible. This poem inspires me to care to know people, not just the world. It keeps me from hiding away in fear. All I hope for now over anything else is to find that willow tree.

Posted 11 Years Ago


4 of 4 people found this review constructive.



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Reviews

Time for Spring to arrive. I sat in the window seat staring out into my little woods behind my house daydreaming. I love your sentiments here they are very beautiful.

Posted 6 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

I love it. Walt Whitmaesque in it's courage to 'step across mountain tops'.
google, "I Saw in Louisiana a Live Oak Growing"/ and keep in mind how
with great vitriol and distain writing (for the time, of course) such
as this, of high emotional energy and importance, was met.

welcome back,
dana

Posted 6 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Emily B

6 Years Ago

have i been gone? lurking very often, waiting for the little bird to come and sing in my ear
you want...I want...we all want. Yet you remind us if we want the simple things in life...we will be easier to please. Gorgeous.

Posted 6 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

it's not exactly a garden, but maybe one will grow before the day is out

Posted 6 Years Ago


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...
. i wish i had the perfect words to tell you how perfect a piece of poetry this is ... there's so much magic here ... so many dreams ... there's the aroma of beauty and the fragrance of music ... there's love and there's joy ... and yes, there's spring ... in all its magnificence and glory ...

Posted 7 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

this is desire for life, embracing the living, the nature of the universe. I traveled with you back to the childhood. This made my day.

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

That was pretty :D

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

i like this one mommy

Posted 10 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

you are the master trancedentalist, Emily..I love this. [=

Posted 10 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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22 Reviews
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Shelved in 2 Libraries
Added on February 5, 2008
Last Updated on February 29, 2008

Author

Emily B
Emily B

Richmond, KY



About
to the Lost Boys I am no Wendy; but my voice brings you back to me. And you sit around my feet, anxious for a story or a kiss. Listening to my words spinning adventures, like so much g.. more..

Writing
silence silence

A Poem by Emily B



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