PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

with tired eyes filled with young sleep

and a heavy heart still carrying woe

to one less martyr for my soul I speak

oh, if only my fledgling self

this tragedy could be not so

and hence, I travel on a ship

unmasted and with no oar

searching for something I have yet

to find even once before

then a spring of generosity beckons

my weary sailing ship

and with heart to my churning chest's

wall a beat it does skip

where hails the father of time's

masterful hand

who is the true keeper of peace

in such a keep less land

and why so boils the broth of

ageless evils festered hand

I lay my torchling thoughts where I

must

on a hot iron of intent

and there they with me

too solidly stand

where they (my thoughts) fall to

their unexpected death and scatter

upon the page

out bursts the flame of a hopeful

inner knowledge

leaving only a sweating pen in a

gutless rage

so this is the fright that in pieces

I have fought hard to come to

conclusion gone utterly afoul in a mind

all askew.............................

(Dec. 17, 1994 pm)