Stains of sorrow from ages past
capture frost within the haze.
A spirit scarred, of treasures stripped,
It yearns to find the way.
Haunted by a stillness cruel,
this wanderer amongst the trees.
Solemn, aching, silently–
she fades into the breeze.
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Categories: All Poetry, Poetry by Phoebe
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I like the poem a lot but I’m not sure I understand it. Who is the wanderer in the trees?
I think that is open to interpretation, David. 🙂
I’m sure but I was interested in your interpretation 😜
You are not forgotten. You are in the healing art. May you rise above with a loving heart. God counts our tears.
You are kind, thank you. 🙂 🙂
You are most welcome.
Love it, Phoebe! <3
Thank you, dear Holly! 🙂 🙂
to slip away or to have not existed would be the easier path. But to continue on and blend in with the breeze among the trees is difficult yet such a lovely thought.
I agree. You said it beautifully. 🙂
Great job at setting the atmosphere. I don’t know, when reading the poem I got this spring morning feeling where the wind is blowing, sending chills throughout your body (sorry if that doesn’t make sense)… Anyway great poem!
I love what you just said…makes perfect sense! Take care 🙂 🙂