The Swing MAG

June 15, 2010
By Anonymous

Imagine me, descending clouds of grey,
The roaring of the wind has ceased at last
Resembling dawn, ascending summer's day,
It harshly pulls me back to my ship's mast
I yearn for more, to break the fragile skies,
Exhilaration satisfies my heart
“Too high! Too high!” the feathered blackbird cries,
I cannot hear, as through the leaves I dart
The tender wood beneath me sobs and sighs,
Then margins shatter and at last I'm free
As higher through the heavens I arise,
But down I plummet, near the willow tree
I sweep the ground, and leave the wooden seat,
Imagining the next time that we meet.

The author's comments:
I enjoyed reading sonnets by Shakespeare and John Gillespie Magee and wrote one using the theme of flying.

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This article has 3 comments.

on Dec. 16 2013 at 2:21 am
TheDolphin ELITE, Iloilo, Other
210 articles 11 photos 51 comments
All I can is that---------your poem is AWESOME!!!!

on Jun. 1 2011 at 11:01 am
enkrbffs SILVER, Waco, Texas
8 articles 1 photo 15 comments

Favorite Quote:
I wish I could remember the specific wording but here goes:

Art is not art if you know how it ends before you begin.

Talent! this is talent!

on Jul. 28 2010 at 7:47 am
Wonderful!  I wondered what this was about for awhile, and then realized.  feeling is beautiful!

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