There Is Trouble In Laa-laa Land

[Guest Laura1977]

There is trouble in Laa-Laa Land.

The broken ice, the lacerations,

Exhausted, pin-pricked, and sore;

I saw my raft drift downstream.

A blackthorn tree on white snow,

The Red-tailed Hawk, leaning on the breeze,

Circles my roped-off silence,

Whispers the truth I want to shout

out to the listening trees.

Circling the four ways,

These broken halves in dialogue,

Merge them both together -

What will we find?

A sky broken by clouds and sun?

A stream, dammed to overflow her banks,

Filling cornfields and parking lots?

A tree, parched and withered,

split by a storm?

Then moss on the stone,

cracks begin with the snow,

And open windows replace the sky.

Where are the girls of summer?

Where the harvest boys?

Sleeping silent water,

Deep in the earth

And rippling with dreams.

[Guest Elizabeth K]

Again - very nice

Liz

[Guest Naomi Stardust]

and rippling with dreams

i love laa-laa land

i have a summer home there

hey! laa-laa land, maybe that's where poems come from?

again, thank you for the cool poem

[Sally]

I read this poem early this morning, but had to leave without responding.

I just read it again and it is very nice, I love it the use of imagery is haunting, I could get some of the images out of my mind as I sat in the waiting room and i must thank you for that.

Beautiful,

Sally

[Guest ~Brenda~]

There is trouble in Laa-Laa Land.

The broken ice, the lacerations,

Exhausted, pin-pricked, and sore;

I saw my raft drift downstream.

A blackthorn tree on white snow,

The Red-tailed Hawk, leaning on the breeze,

Circles my roped-off silence,

Whispers the truth I want to shout

out to the listening trees.

Circling the four ways,

These broken halves in dialogue,

Merge them both together -

What will we find?

A sky broken by clouds and sun?

A stream, dammed to overflow her banks,

Filling cornfields and parking lots?

A tree, parched and withered,

split by a storm?

Then moss on the stone,

cracks begin with the snow,

And open windows replace the sky.

Where are the girls of summer?

Where the harvest boys?

Sleeping silent water,

Deep in the earth

And rippling with dreams.

Very nice. Thank you. I should start posting my poems.

bernie