Yellow Melancholy
My eyes scan the yellow sky
Searching for a hidden meaning
Within the horizon line
Somewhere up above
So I might make some sense
Of my life
Of my love.
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
PenholderxX’s Poems (12)
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Microwave Oven | 0 | 10/24/2009 |
| Yellow Melancholy | 0 | 06/12/2009 |
| Do you know how long? | 0 | 06/12/2009 |
| Hon, don't cry. | 0 | 06/12/2009 |
| Autumn sunlight | 1 | 06/05/2009 |
| Waiting for death. | 1 | 05/01/2009 |
| Nonsense | 0 | 05/01/2009 |
| Beside the Ocean (Don’t Lose your Insight) | 0 | 05/01/2009 |
| Larger Cities Frighten Me | 0 | 05/01/2009 |
| List of Mysterious Things; 1.Portland | 0 | 05/01/2009 |
| Yellow flower petal Questionnaire | 1 | 05/01/2009 |
| Walk along the red walls | 0 | 05/01/2009 |
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