My Juliet

eldermimmi wrote:The leaves roll in
by a spot by the lake,
over silver waters
they sail to our feet,
under a white-hot sun
where jet hair flows
through my hands; crushed silk. This was a bit hard to read. It didn't seem to flow as much as your other stanzas. Maybe make a few words rhyme or just try to make it flow more.

Silk crushed,
like the sheets you left,
scarred, not unfeeling,
not caring for remorse,
not crying for more,
but waiting for retribution,
and the scent of your perfume. This is my favorite stanza.

They carry the wilted petals
silent, like a party in mourning,
amongst the fallen leaves
flowing back out to sea,
on a wave of distant voices;
echoes of a princess lost.

The voices of our forebearers,
though wise and indiscriminate,
are often false in their meaning;
For while their are many roses, many If you are not going to put many in front of all take out this second many.
shapes, sizes, colours and scents,
one by another name would never smell as sweet.

((Yeah... this isn't exactly a shining piece of work, but it's written now... so...))

I didn't see much wrong. Keep it up. Never forget these are only suggestions. It is your interpretation of something, and because you wrote it is your poem. If you feel it is perfect the way it is, then it is perfect, because it's yours.

Your title drew me in. Excuse me for being drawn to the sappy love poems I thought this was pretty sweetly written. Although, I can't help but feel that something was off with the rhythm. I am fan of imperfect rhyming though. I appreciate what you did here:

The leaves roll in
by a spot by the lake,
over silver waters
they sail to our feet,
under a white-hot sun
where jet hair flows
through my hands; crushed silk.

The leaves roll in
by a spot by the lake,