My Dear

She dances through the sky,with the sun shining bright.

Glorious and Graceful and much like a kite.

She sways in the wind to her own tune

Reaching high, high in the sky, touching the moon.

 

When the wind begins to bicker

She starts to scold.

And quick to extinguish the whicker

I pull her back to hold.

 

When the world calms down I let her go.

Sometimes she takes to the sky, sometimes she says “No.”

The tension between us is strong

but it is needed and never lasts long.

 

Winter comes and she must return home.

Cracked glass splinter.

The result of the damage is a stone

Snow enters, her colors grow dimmer.

 

Tears in her skin from the glass

I run to her, My dear lass

And I know her bow may fray and her strings may break

But I can fix her with some glue and some tape.

 

I can’t always keep her with me.

She still will take flight.

I’ll always be there to pick her out of the tree

For my love is like a kite.

Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741