Jun 02, 2001, 08:44 PM
[center]THE LAKE
She tenses, hovering at the brink of release,
While I gaze out at the waiting lake.
The tennis ball flies from my grasp,
Spins through the atmosphere like a green planet,
And falls onto the surface of the water.
Flying through the air,
The black dog passes over the fringe
Where the tranquil water meets the yielding muck.
She explodes into the liquid,
Jaws gaping, tongue flapping.
Forever reaching, she paws onward.
She reaches her treasure.
Grasping the bobbing object,
Locking it between her teeth.
She turns to return to shore.
[/center]
this was just a poem i wrote for english, it was written in the syle of Mary Oliver, an excellent poet. We have been reading from Twelve Moons. Its cool shit! even though sometimes you need to discuss the poems to really get them.
She tenses, hovering at the brink of release,
While I gaze out at the waiting lake.
The tennis ball flies from my grasp,
Spins through the atmosphere like a green planet,
And falls onto the surface of the water.
Flying through the air,
The black dog passes over the fringe
Where the tranquil water meets the yielding muck.
She explodes into the liquid,
Jaws gaping, tongue flapping.
Forever reaching, she paws onward.
She reaches her treasure.
Grasping the bobbing object,
Locking it between her teeth.
She turns to return to shore.
[/center]
this was just a poem i wrote for english, it was written in the syle of Mary Oliver, an excellent poet. We have been reading from Twelve Moons. Its cool shit! even though sometimes you need to discuss the poems to really get them.
