She tiptoes
through emerald grass
still warm
from the golden glow of day.
Her voice rings out,
sweet songs, nonsensical words,
and yet if you listened to the whole,
your soul would comprehend.
She twirls, the wish-stones of pebbles clinking in her pockets,
the simplest of treasures kept close.
She marvels at the fluorescent green glitter
that freckles the twilight
with fleeting sparks.
I wonder at the reflection
of copper curls, and twinkling eyes,
longing to give her a better world
than this that I have inherited,
a world where promises break as fast as the news,
trying to remember when innocence was mine too.
About the Creator
Ellie Hoovs
Breathing life into the lost and broken. Writes to mend what fire couldn't destroy. Poetry stitched from ashes, longing, and stubborn hope.
My Poetry Collection DEMORTALIZING is out now!!!: https://a.co/d/5fqwmEb
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Excellent storytelling
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Comments (3)
"She marvels at the fluorescent green glitter that freckles the twilight with fleeting sparks." My favorite bit, I miss lightning bugs. They are one of the best things about summer.
I really love the image of tiptoing through emerald grass. So vivid! Such a beautiful poem with a touch of melancholy. Loved it!
Simply magical! ✨