Sunday poetry prompt
Hey all, happy Sunday! Next week's prompt is:
She was born to more than rise,
could never be that quiet,
she hurtles to the skies,
I never could deny it,
She, not born of angel,
but muse of burning wings
I, her writer, faithful,
lifted among the kings,
I see her in her faults,
love and revel beyond them,
her spirit my heart exalts,
never able to condemn,
she is my lady bright,
even as I shining burn,
she is not the end of light,
but the birth of my return.
My poem for this week's prompt is as follows:

could never be that quiet,
she hurtles to the skies,
I never could deny it,
She, not born of angel,
but muse of burning wings
I, her writer, faithful,
lifted among the kings,
I see her in her faults,
love and revel beyond them,
her spirit my heart exalts,
never able to condemn,
she is my lady bright,
even as I shining burn,
she is not the end of light,
but the birth of my return.
Comments
Post a Comment