Dusk (3)

[Gurdit]

The sky can’t seem to decide whether it’s night or day. It lingers in a blue-grey haze, being neither azure day, nor inky night… and yet, a bit of both. The tip of my pen dances joyously over the page, words springing forth mirthfully. My thoughts condense calmly, crystal clear in a mind at peace. Yet my eyes can barely see these little glyphs of love come together in the darkness…

Is this how we live life? In the shadows, we write our own lives. Yet we barely see what we’ve written until we’re done and have reached a place of light…

[Lubesh]

Nice play on the moods of the elements and then metaphor at the end..nice write!

[Gurdit]

Thanks .

[ea_blue]

I enjoyed this a lot. I expect that we do live our lives this way, never quite understanding how it all looks until we slow down and reflect. I love the idea of this.

I don't know how this is poetry, but then I am no expert on it. I like it anyway.

ea_blue

[Gurdit]

It's not poetry, but it doesn't fit anywhere else on the site. I write a lot of these little fragments of (poetic) prose, and the guys at SM thought this was the best place for it, since it's too short to be a story.

[dorian hanes]

Not that I didn’t enjoy this read, but I have no vocabulary to describe how beautiful, elegant your printed words truly are. They not only inspire future writings, also reminds me of when I sat and painted a blob of nothing drenching my paintbrush into the purple paint then watching it as it dissolved from dark violet to light blue to white with a hint of dried black. (I tend to babel, many apologies.) I give all three parts 4/5!

[Gurdit]

Thanks for your wonderful words, Rena
And if you're commenting on any of my writing, please don't be afraid to babble at all! I love those spontaneous comments and reactions that people sometimes call "babble"

[Venomous Vixen]

Originally Posted by tidruG

The sky can’t seem to decide whether it’s night or day. It lingers in a blue-grey haze, being neither azure day, nor inky night… and yet, a bit of both. The tip of my pen dances joyously over the page, words springing forth mirthfully. My thoughts condense calmly, crystal clear in a mind at peace. Yet my eyes can barely see these little glyphs of love come together in the darkness…

Is this how we live life? In the shadows, we write our own lives. Yet we barely see what we’ve written until we’re done and have reached a place of light…

You had some great inner rhymes in the beginning there, really rolling off the tongue and making it sound beautiful aloud. Like Lu said, great use of the elements, and I enjoyed the image of a lone writer facing them all, pen to paper.

Wow and a powerful last line there, a little too close for some I am sure, but sobering and the type of line that really gets you thinking, and wanting to get out there and live! Excellent write, and I can almost see this put into a poetic form... rather than just the two paragraphs. You should try that with one of these!

[Gurdit]

I can almost see this put into a poetic form... rather than just the two paragraphs. You should try that with one of these!

I really should, shouldn't I?

[Vorcla]

Very evocative. I think it helps the reader to try to understand the feeling here, rather than just what the words mean. Nice work.

[Gurdit]

I think it helps the reader to try to understand the feeling here

That's generally my first priority when I write these.

[Nupur]

Another beautiful piece of writing from my favourite person on SM!

I honestly love this one. Your theme, play on words, it's all absolutely stunning. And you have a killer last line there. Amazing work.

P.S. Move this to the prose forum, you lazy ass!

[Gurdit]

Thanks. .

[jeannerené]

A lovely write ... which awakens ones own reflections/contemplations.

You have the ability to mesmerize with your words ..................

.jeanne