In the Misty Lane. Poetry, Ap

Remaining keepsakes thou shall hold

While rain washes thy pain.

No path forged beneath stone steps,

no stream once wandered nearby.

Imprint thy breath, thy whisper

And the zephyr that reddens thy cheeks.

Rape flowers yellowing the fields

Scattering as if stardust brought down to earth.

Clusters of violet jutting on white walls

Smearing monochrome picture into a riot of colors.

Beaming colors, swirls of paint.

I, too, dost consent that please

do not trim those wisteria vines.

For blossom thou retain, pigment thou stain

But only stem remain, petels shrivel

Only dismall remain,

in the misty lane.

Lain stain gain lane rain vain cane... so many words that rhymes!!

In the Misty Lane. Poetry, April 4th. In the Misty Lane. Poetry, April 4th. The yellowing fields I was saying. Again, fields of vivid color. In the Misty Lane. Poetry, April 4th. In the Misty Lane. Poetry, April 4th. In the Misty Lane. Poetry, April 4th.

Written at the hotel of our stay at huizhou, a magical place. The rain just shone a blue to everything, and from time to time, my sentimental self feels like writing something.

自我的宣泄

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诗没有按照词牌压韵，当时真的太累了实在不想再改了，现在已经找不回当时的感觉了