Saturday, April 24, 2010

Why I Don't Write Poetry - Part 10

Tis the night,
Or maybe the early morn.
Twilight's beams prevail.

The earth slumbers
In an drowsy trance
Sleeping beneath the veil.

Will the morning come
With sunlight filling the sky
The breeze waves the wheat.

Night passes,
Day conquers the dark
Blood coursing through my veins.

Slumber inspires
Revives the senses
Strengthens the will

In the light I wander
Looking for what
I may never know.


Cheryl Peters said...

Next time, wander in the dark. Then even if you find what you're looking for you won't be able to recognize it. There's an admirable tragedy in constantly searching and not knowing what is sought.

(Just a few words from my twisted mind, with hopes they may brighten your day although I fear they'll confuse you further).

You're rather serious and it scares me to death.

I await Part 11 with bated breath, not knowing why.

Walk said...

Baited breath huh? That sounds a little fishy.

Anonymous said...


I was just about to write a serious comment until I read your reply to Shaddy.

But, how can one follow such humor with seriousness. I think I'll just keep smiling and leave the serious stuff in the serious stuff box.

Walk said...

It was seriously fishy