Dreaming

Muse of the strange beings

*This poem was written under the prompt: My Quiet place. My Quiet place of muse is however, not very quiet.

I have certain qualms that surround me,
But the sea-green tides today
are not divulging
but low.

I have passions for tumultuous storms
That goes unrequited in the summer’s bowers
But they seem to be bathing under the symmetrical roofs
The flashes of one distant star, gliding past their morrows
And yet here I am strange
for finding a heart in the dilemmas of the off-seasons,
that left me behind a traveler, precipitated
who seek towards some
ever-present tornadoes.

I have my name upon a tree
And it gave me no solace at all
Because I can only dance for the rains
And by paying my subtle abode, above
a call.

 

© Priyanka, All rights reserved.

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