sleeping child

Posted: November 23, 2009 in Uncategorized

The sun rose from the belly of the sea, only to kiss the bud, only to wake its slumbering lids.

For then climbed out, as the sun knew too well, the sleeping child.
The yellow petaled sleeping child.

She yawned and stretched her arms outward and up, like wings just before the bird leaps to flight; and then to the sky, she lifted her hands and prayed.
As the flower made her silent prayers, to watching skies, and bees and leaves and garden things, a little boy cocked his head and took her arm.
And ‘loves me’ he whispered, the first dainty petal held between his fingers.

Now on the grass she lay, the sleeping child.
Or what remains; the petals broken, the stem alone; an ode to when the last petal fell, to when the words were uttered from the boy’s lips, ‘loves me not.’
A spell was cast.
And forever more, the sun, it shone and shone, but try as it may
Its kisses would not wake her up.

  1. Chavie says:

    wooooooow! :Othat was beauuuuuutiful! 🙂

  2. Angel says:


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s