She was death
In a paper cup
And wine
In the cooling air
Gliding securely
Through the crowds
With sylvian grace.
Grandeur met
And greeted once
As equals
Not as foes
She was all the
Essence of beauty
Of the human race
Or otherworldly
I know not
As on the
Tread of time
She danced a
Rapturing rythm
None can trace
Innocence displayed
In laughter
Clean and fair
Music to the mourner
Gladsome tidings
And crisp dew-drops
Of purest sunlight
On springtime day
Eyes afire
With inner life
That flames bright
In passion expressed
By the tear-drawing
Repository of beauty
That is her face.
Sunday, January 18, 2004
Fatherhood
I am carrying the torch you Handed me Not handed. Placed Carefully This is sacred space. Was the carrying so heavy for you as well? Were yo...
-
It must have been love That sort of thing Can't be mistaken For a lesser set of feelings It has a special hat And makes you welcome at p...
-
She shares the blame For Adam's fall So secure, attractive Brilliant in a certain view The essence of Enlightenment I see her raise her ...
-
I’m tired I’m tired of my heart giving out Whenever it gives in That things being the same Never makes a difference Of looking forwards to s...
No comments:
Post a Comment