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Poetry Magnum Opus

Through the Mist


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fog through the trees.jpgThrough the Mist

The gray dawn yawns
without the sun in sight,
the autumn sky shifts
with a misty cobweb of fog.

Through the wet film
the tree’s green takes on a dusty shade
without reflection,
just a tinge
of its former self dares intrude.

A clammy chill lies on my skin
                                                            spreading cold up
                                                            to the base of my neck,
                                                            like a screech too shrill.

                                                            Mornings like these I want to crawl
                                                            back to my cocoon,
                                                            that warm spot
                                                            buried deep beneath our downy quilt
                                                            and dream of you beside me
                                                            on a summer afternoon.
                                                                                        --- Judi Van Gorder


~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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very nice tink, the image of the moment was presented vividly and clear.


"Unbearable, isn't it? The suffering of strangers, the agony of friends.

There is a secret song at the center of the world, Joey, and its sound is like razors through flesh."


"I don't believe you."


"Oh come, you can hear its faint echo right now. I'm here to turn up the volume.

To press the stinking face of humanity into the dark blood of its own secret heart."

"There's a starving beast inside my chest
playing with me until he's bored
Then, slowly burying his tusks in my flesh
crawling his way out he rips open old wounds

When I reach for the knife placed on the bedside table
its blade reflects my determined face
to plant it in my chest
and carve a hole so deep it snaps my veins

Hollow me out, I want to feel empty"
-- "Being Able To Feel Nothing" by Oathbreaker


"Sky turns to a deeper grey

the sun fades by the moon

hell's come from the distant hills

tortures dreams of the doomed

and they pray, yet they prey

and they pray, still they prey"
-- "Still They Prey" by Cough


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  • 2 years later...

It's true...no matter how demanding your daily schedule may be, the onset of such weather will make one feel quite uncomfortable. The cocoon you just left, will look even more inviting.



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Thanks for reading and commenting.


Badge, Yes these are chiilly days and I'm glad that came through in the poem.


Barry, Thank you for the nice words.


Yarnspinner, Nice to see you commenting on the forum. Yes that cocoon sounds good right now.



~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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