Array ( [sid] => 166933 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Dominion Of Self [time] => 2011-08-05 14:33:54 [hometext] => That perfect time in late afternoon, just before dusk when work is done for the day [bodytext] => Light begins its blue grey descent into the black glove of evening
Small birds chitter chatter in the cool still of late afternoon
Natures brilliance resounding in soft sculpted clouds, white tipped with dark underbelly
Canopied over the low rumble of distant traffic moving towards horizons haze

Summer sun sinks into oceans edge, holistic still its pumpkin orange glow
As fishing boats dance to the whim of the sea, slender masts sway metronomic
Waves wash salted spray over rocks of the westward shore
Where lovers walk, arm in arm across the shifting sands

Melted into the comfort of high backed easy chair I peruse the panorama
Tied white umbrellas stand sentinel as priests bowed in prayer
Heading the call of the bell tolling across rooftops in the old Catholic church
My senses now soothed by a slowly sipped cup of coffee

Any hint of melancholy is always cleansed by this comforting arm of the day
Though night demons may lurk in the periphery it is not their time
Here is the zone of harmony, contentment and unrepenting calm
The last retreat of order, dominion of self [comments] => 4 [counter] => 266 [topic] => 54 [informant] => puppy_dog_eyes [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => happypoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Dominion Of Self


Dominion Of Self
Date: Friday, 5th August 2011 @ 02:33:54 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry


Contributed By: puppy_dog_eyes

Light begins its blue grey descent into the black glove of evening
Small birds chitter chatter in the cool still of late afternoon
Natures brilliance resounding in soft sculpted clouds, white tipped with dark underbelly
Canopied over the low rumble of distant traffic moving towards horizons haze

Summer sun sinks into oceans edge, holistic still its pumpkin orange glow
As fishing boats dance to the whim of the sea, slender masts sway metronomic
Waves wash salted spray over rocks of the westward shore
Where lovers walk, arm in arm across the shifting sands

Melted into the comfort of high backed easy chair I peruse the panorama
Tied white umbrellas stand sentinel as priests bowed in prayer
Heading the call of the bell tolling across rooftops in the old Catholic church
My senses now soothed by a slowly sipped cup of coffee

Any hint of melancholy is always cleansed by this comforting arm of the day
Though night demons may lurk in the periphery it is not their time
Here is the zone of harmony, contentment and unrepenting calm
The last retreat of order, dominion of self

This poem is Copyright © puppy_dog_eyes



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