Was pain always
just short of the worlds
we paint in strokes?

Alias to love
wrapped in whispers
and scented with foxglove.

Our words
were kissed with steal,
embedded in swordplay.

Each a symbol of
transformation from
form to emotion.

And we wait for secrets to unfold themselves,
all the little white horses that trace our tongue,
promise after promise, dream after dream,
standing ready for those truths within.


© Phen Weston 2015


11 thoughts on “Within

Add yours

  1. Delightful! I just read this in another blog: George Orwell said in his rules for writing, “Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.”
    You did it perfectly! In my novel when Jordan is out at the ranch, would you mind if one of the characters used ‘the little white horses’? I’m working on it now, but the going is slow. I thought I was over my writer’s block, but apparently not.
    I am confused with ‘kissed with steal’; did you mean the metal–steel, or am I simply missing something?

    1. Thank you so much for the kind words and I’m really sorry for the late reply. I’m really glad you like the poem too. As for kissed with steal, it means that sometimes a mouth/tongue can be as sharp and harmful as any sword.

      And, for using ‘the little white horses’, in what context do you mean?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: