This was a poem I wrote for the Terrible Writing Prompts contest,
6. write a scene in which one character reduces another to uncontrollable sobs without touching them or speaking.
The open window welcomes the wind,
That blows, rattling the shrunken leaves of the dying roses;
And like the withered blossoms on the window sill,
Sits the boy, his anguish curtained,
Like a waterfall behind vines.
Waiting, just waiting;
Then the kitchen door, its hinges squeaking,
Admits a visitor.
How can it be?
A week dead, surely not alive-walks in poor Thomas’s father!
As still as the dying roses on the windowsill, sits Thomas,
His pale eyes glazing over with tears as he realizes it’s not his father.
This man is shorter, his face harder, his eyes more sunken.
No, not father, he decides.
Another man, a meaner man-
This man holds out a knife.
Now Thomas knows
Just how his father died.
“You did it!”
He cries.
The stranger stands, a dark shadow in the warm sunlight.
Thomas slings the vase of dying roses
At the shadow’s form.
Still, the man is silent, still.
Now he’s desperate, and so, the tears running in streams down his cheeks,
He prays for deliverance from a murderous stranger.
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Thanks. The title I came up with before I realized that the terrible prompts contest required that heading was Revelation of the Roses. I need some help with poem-punctuation! I guess I'll look at that icon for the writing tips thing. Thanks for the comment!
This is beautiful!
Great intro; the personification was well done. And I love how you came up with an idea like this for the prompt. Creative.
I have no crit on the content... this is a fabulous poem! But I must say that you need to work on the punctuation; too many commas and not enough periods. But, that's just my taste, so you may disregard.
Ah! You almost made me forget... Title! That's the whole reason I clicked on this poem in the first place. I was going to complain over the title. Lucky you, you had an amazing poem that made me forget my little rant.
But please, give this an amazing title. It deserves one.
Thanks for the critique. I'm going to work on the whole "how his father died," thing.
I thought this poem was beautiful.
Sad and touching in different ways.
But also, it was a bit unclear. In some places I couldn't tell who you were referring to, Thomas or the murderer.
So maybe clear it up a bit and try to give some more detail about how his father died.
But it was still good, my favorite lines were:
"And like the withered blossoms on the window sill,
Sits the boy, his anguish curtained,
Like a waterfall behind vines.
Waiting, just waiting"