Walking around, this place is thousands of years old.
Corners of tapestries are starting to fold.
I think back, to a time when horses roamed,
And back then, many people did not have their hair combed.
Thinking, as I am walking, I realize,
There are many things that we cannot see with our eyes.
It's like a feeling, a picture in my mind,
That tells me things that happened, things that are hard to find,
Things not of this nature, not of this kind.
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Where did you get the pic of the Eiffel Tower? That brings me right back to Paris ... wow. I really enjoyed how your stream of consciousness folwed into a poem. That's where I'd like people to go more -- creatively using language.
ReplyDeleteThat is an excellent piece of writing! I love how it rhymes. I really like how you say: "And back then, many people did not have their hair combed.", I think it lightens the poem up a bit. (:
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ReplyDeleteGreat rythm and rhyme. I like how you displayed a castle as a completely different world.
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