While The Colors Bleed Away

Trying my hand at a terzanelle.

She spends all of her time drawing (the trees

--having no leaves--only lifeless charred black.)

While her mother softly, soundlessly grieves.

 

And on a wooden table, lay a stack

of her father’s forgotten things. Winter

having no leaves, only lifeless charred black

 

skies cast shadows in a bleak, dreary blur

of gray. The girl silently draws and thinks

of her father’s forgotten things. Winter

 

will not wipe the tears (that her mother blinks)

away. In the corner, she dreams in shades

of gray. The girl silently draws and thinks

 

up a father, but the image evades.

Her imagination seeks, colors bleed

away. In the corner, she dreams in shades

 

of gray. Grasping at the color recede,

she spends all of her time drawing the trees

her imagination seeks. Colors bleed,

while her mother softly, soundlessly grieves.

Author's Note

A terzanelle is a poem that combines the aspects of a villanelle and the terza rima. I hope you enjoyed the poem, don't forget to leave a review! :)

Reviews

[_mal]

This is actually fantastic, I love the structure. The content is powerful, so much in there around the words as well .

[Legolas]

Loved it!! I always love reading your poems:)

Quick note: you spelt trees wrong- maybe you wanna fix it, i dont know. Doesnt matter though:)

[MOON]

Beautiful love how it comes together.