The world is colored gray today,
mist gathering around.
Rain upon my window pane,
it makes a hollow sound.

Sound stolen from the heavy air,
robbed of reason and of rhyme
permits for thoughts to wander,
roaming freely for a time.

Staring eyes upon the foggy glass
watching rivulets run races.
Losing self to deafening silence,
for even time has stopped its paces.

Aware of warmth between my hands;
rising scent of chamomille.
Glance into herbal reflections
and watch the dancers dance a while.

Theirs is a dance of joyful sorrow,
a brief but beautiful display
for as quickly as their dance begins
they soon must fade away.

They rise and fall, then rise again
to the unforgiving air.
Swirling, twirling, skirts billowing;
wallowing in their despair.

Tears of joy and smiles of woe
writ upon their faces fair
as they dance their sweet ballet
and give their souls unto the air.

Take a drink to their rememberance.
Shed a tear and smile a smile.
Sigh a sigh and dream a dream for them ~
if only for a little while.

Nicely done! I enjoyed the cadence of the poem and each turn of phrase. This was rather reminiscent of Dorothy Parker's style.

-- Nephele

NightMother, this is so descriptive! I love it.

Aw, glad you liked it. ^_^ Inspiration from a cup of steaming hot tea...who'da thunk it?

And I saw it in your poem.

I imagined myself sitting in a bay window seat, hot cup of tea in hand. With my forehead pressed against the pane, the cold, grey rain slid down the glass. Not surprisingly, I placed the whole setting on a sea cliff. In my mind, your dancers turned out to be sea gulls riding on the wind while wild waves crashed on the shore.

You drew me into a whole little world in a few short verses.

Like I said - very descriptive.

Wow this is great!

And that's what I strive for. ^_^ To be able to transport people to a place and time with nothing but words is what I, as a writer, always hope to do.

Seth, thank you. The enjoyment of my work from others makes me happy.