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Literature Text
Leaves Brushing Against the Window
By Laura Barton
I draw into myself
and try to pull away
because I don't know how to express myself beyond
what is acceptable to the world out there.
Because I shy away from expressions that will take me to the point
where my words are perceived as idle amusements that aren't worth
anything more than a chortle.
Will you laugh as my face heats to red
from simply looking into your eyes
and allowing you to see beyond the wall and into the window?
Or will it allow you see that I'm being genuine
and that these words are dredged up from the deepest caverns of my soul
where they have rested in stagnancy?
Will you laugh as I stumble over my own tongue
as if it is too large for my mouth
or as if I don't know the phonetics of my mother means of expression?
I want to be able to trust that you will be the one
to stand away from the rest
and not chortle as I'm sincere.
I want to know that you'll guard my words like fragile autumn leaves,
even if they turn out to be brown and hole-ridden,
and that you'll hold them close to hear the whispers of their meaning.
Can I trust in you to surround me with encouragement
until those chortles
become nothing more than a forgotten echo in the wind?
By Laura Barton
I draw into myself
and try to pull away
because I don't know how to express myself beyond
what is acceptable to the world out there.
Because I shy away from expressions that will take me to the point
where my words are perceived as idle amusements that aren't worth
anything more than a chortle.
Will you laugh as my face heats to red
from simply looking into your eyes
and allowing you to see beyond the wall and into the window?
Or will it allow you see that I'm being genuine
and that these words are dredged up from the deepest caverns of my soul
where they have rested in stagnancy?
Will you laugh as I stumble over my own tongue
as if it is too large for my mouth
or as if I don't know the phonetics of my mother means of expression?
I want to be able to trust that you will be the one
to stand away from the rest
and not chortle as I'm sincere.
I want to know that you'll guard my words like fragile autumn leaves,
even if they turn out to be brown and hole-ridden,
and that you'll hold them close to hear the whispers of their meaning.
Can I trust in you to surround me with encouragement
until those chortles
become nothing more than a forgotten echo in the wind?
Features
Featured in #Xpose-it's blog Weekly 10 piece literature feature for January 31st-February 6th, 2010
Full Title: Leaves Brushing Against the Window
Something that popped into my head. Not sure what else to say about it.
Featured in #Xpose-it's blog Weekly 10 piece literature feature for January 31st-February 6th, 2010 Full Title: Leaves Brushing Against the Window
Something that popped into my head. Not sure what else to say about it.
© 2009 - 2024 lunastar
Comments13
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Overall Vision Originality Technique ImpactThis is absolutely stunning in every way possible for a piece of literature to be! You've definitely moved me as I continued to read from the first line, all the way to the end. This poem captures the feelings and emotions of what many of us want in our lives; simple acceptance for the way that we are, without judgment.
I love that you used the word "chortle" more often than not, because I don't believe this word is used enough these days. That also gave the poem a more unique feel to it, which is definitely a wonderful thing in this case.
Overall, it's absolutely lovely and an instant fave in my book.