Sunday, January 06, 2013

Proliferate

The sun is grasping at the clouds,
attempting to pull itself up
it fringes them in golden-orange fire,
but roiling grayish nimbus shrouds
the sky just like a cup
of steamy yet attainable desire
requiring some effort to acquire.

By noon the sun had found a way
to scale the azure peak
ascending steadily through will alone
it got so hot it scorched the gray
and things weren't quite as bleak
which made it seem that aspirations sown
could see a day when they are fully grown.

3 comments:

Eileen T O'Neill ..... said...

Bob,

I sense that we are all sky gazing and wishing to both see and feel the warmth of the sun....It is a yearning for the end of winter too I think...
Looking forward to much better days:)

Best Wishes,
Eileen:)

Mad Kane said...

I enjoyed your poem!

Happy new year!
Madeleine Begun Kane

rch said...

Thanks Eileen and mk, c'mon spring!