Beauty (poem)

Surrounded by a crown of painful thorns,

The roaming thistles gaze upon the world,

Around them is the Earth so greatly torn,

Before them lay the stage where life unfurls.

The play of life begins with shining rays,

Exemplifying drops of morning dew,

By striking them with spears of light of day,

And throwing shafts of light of many hues.

What then? when curtains falls and lights go out,

What left of nature is there to admire?

With darkness casting beauty into doubt,

When left alone, does faith and awe expire?

Each day begins with beauty uncontained,

Yet ends with beauty hidden and restrained.

Very nice. I liked your last line. Just some suggestions here:


a correction:


Here maybe you use "of" too many times??

oh, the problem was the iambic pentameter

Awesome... This shows some great understanding of iambic, and I see that you even start each line with a syllable that is not enunciated. That is hard to do...

When left alone, do faith and awe expire?

Sigh, really pretty.

Is it "lay" or "lies??" <that one always gets me...

I am trying to learn IP, so this was a good example, thanks!

I almost got stuck at "What left of nature is there to admire?" then I read it again. The stress is on 'is', right?

Anyway...

Blue skies!