PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Burning Eyes

 I close these eyes and fluid
lines of poetry come flowing
into my realm of thinking
Slowing it down to reroute bad speaking 

It burns when I close these eyes
though there I find ferns growing by the creek side
as I quietly sneak by and try
not to trample these tiny toads and plentiful mushrooms
all the velvet flowers full of perfumes
resume their sway in the wind
as I begin to descend with the water,
making it’s own way,
slowly trickling with ripples and drips
drowning out the sounds of the forest
but only for an instant before
distant insects become apparent to the senses and
sensitive skin tends to burn further away from the ferns