#19 - The Secret of The Blue Mountains
|Shared with Poets United|
Attempt at a prose poem. Ireland, again..
Blue mountains spread in the distance,
a place where the keys are hiding. Silently
I watch them. They stretch under the sun and
under rolling clouds, puffed with pride. There
I feel your presence would be felt, and I wish
I could travel the earthy paths too, smelling the
Fresh grassy air and touching skies. I'd pick a
wildflower and examine it in my palm.
I'd let the wind tangle my hair. I couldn't go, though,
and it remains a mystery to me, much information
waiting to be uncovered. I couldn't fix it, yet.