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Hillside Sentinel
Posted by Douglas, Aug 13, 2008. 695 views. ID = 1586
This post was written in 1 minutes.
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 | Being on a lake seems to inspire poetry as much as climbing mountains. :)
This is blank verse. Iambic Pentameter, no rhyme. |  | This post has been awarded 48 stars by 11 readers. |  | This post is Part 4 of a writing series titled Lake Passagassawakeag. |
The misty ghosts of vapor slowly spin,
And churn their mournful way across the lake.
Pursued by daybreak's warm and bloody hues,
They slowly, and in silence, disappear.
And high above the placid, rippling waves,
A wooden cross with cracked and peeling paint
Is fiercely touched by morbid crimson light -
A grim and solitary sentinel.
Copyright 2008 Douglas. All rights reserved. FifteenMinutesOfFiction.com has been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work. For permission to reprint this item, please contact the author.
| This post has been awarded 48 stars by 11 readers. | | This post is Part 4 of a writing series titled Lake Passagassawakeag. The next part of this series can be found here: Steadfast Mutes. |
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