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English poetry project

Ripples

Into the clouds into the dust,

into the frost into the burning hot.

Waves…..

Streaming into his mind.

A senile pelican towering in marsh,

Scars on feet,

scars on beak.

He sees nothing but the rippling upon the coast,

He hears nothing but the soft wail.

Sands…..

Sneak into his wings rusting like roaring flame.

Scars on feet,

Scars on beak.

From the dusk from the dawn,

To the shelter to the shore.

Brightness…..

Aching into his eyes,

A dashing young man chasing his wind.

A crescent smile,

Bright future will.

He runs into shadow,

Wakes in rainbow.

Dews…..

Lightened in the morning shin.

A crescent smile,

Bright future will.

Fuzzy fog flies away,

Morning dews don't like to stay.

The sound of silence, tyrannize the horizon.

The pelican no longer proud,

The boy is still young.

From the dusk from the dawn,

Into the frost into the burning hot.

                    

                                                                                           Kevin Li