Melted Gold

June 23, 2011
By Beth Whittaker BRONZE, Manchester, New Hampshire
Beth Whittaker BRONZE, Manchester, New Hampshire
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The sun is a flame
where gold is made melted
and sent down over Earth.
All that the sun's gold pours over is lifted above gravity's beginning place;
the birds rise to circle within the glow and the flowers raise their necks with open faces to perceive what is coming down.

The sun is a flame, a flicker behind water. It is seen through a boundless pond of blue. The other side is where the sun hangs. Behind your eyes is where gold is made melted.

People flood the halls-walking and standing. The staircases move with feet. There are people behind desks flipping pages and tapping pens. There are heads resting, stools and chairs sliding. Every seat is filled, every pen owns a hand, in every space someone stands. In different ways, the people move through time. Altogether they move in all ways, except for the way you grow a beauty like a rose opening beneath the sun, a beauty like gold.


The author's comments:
This resulted from a boring school day this past year. It is raining today and I miss the sun. I hope that everyone will find the simple beauty of this poem uplifting.

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This article has 1 comment.


renni SILVER said...
on Jul. 11 2011 at 9:56 am
renni SILVER, Crete, Illinois
5 articles 0 photos 40 comments

Favorite Quote:
Sometimes, that girl who seems so strong, who never lets what people say bother her, who smiles and laughs with her friends all the time, is really the girl who, deep down, is falling to pieces.

i liked it, well done :)


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