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| | From:  Zydha (Original Message) | Sent: 11/4/2007 3:53 AM |
Ivy crept through the window, absent glass the gateway to a room without colour nor blooms. Strangled vase of dried flowers neared the edge and toppled leaving nothing, but putrid perfumes. Slowly, the searching creeper withdrew knowing there was nothing ~ left to do. (c) ZYDHA HART 2007 |
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Winsome poem, soulful, and touching...much to ponder upon, thinking...deep is she in thought, what is it that she has wrought? Maria |
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| | | From: Zydha | Sent: 11/4/2007 5:05 AM |
Oh dear, lol, I couldn't sleep and thought of editing this one, Maria, but you just beat me to it by 3 minutes,  this is the revised version which I have just posted late in Pip's challenge. Had only finished the new page idea and Sunday Repost idea, could it have been that I was shattered, lol, and hadn't a clue where this one came from...maybe thoughts from the ending of an era with the impending move, who knows, thanks,  Zy |
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| | | From: Zydha | Sent: 11/4/2007 5:05 AM |
Edited already.... Ivy crept through the window, absent glass the gateway to a room without colour nor blooms. Strangled vase of dried flowers neared the edge and toppled leaving the rising putrid perfumes. Slowly, the searching creeper withdrew knowing nothing ~ was left there to do. (c) ZYDHA HART 2007 |
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x 12, Excellent work, my friend... bear |
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I can only give what struck me with this reading Zy! I have been watching too many horror movies lately! I took it as an analogy of as the ivy invaded the private place and took away life; so in real life, tendrils of hatred take away our peace. Boy, I am deep this morning lol. |
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