all of all. besides
beside the leaning Yew
crated only half
wholehearted doubt beside
strange bedfellows of prisons worth;
quarter but the whole. astride
unsettled skies
without flesh or heat
outside the cosmic eye
London has taken to crawl;
upon the lips of verge
lost. our simple son
in stomach of the star,
between the clocks,
staid beneath the crease;
pay homage the aired malaise
to this and this. inside
mother of the loin
brother of the wreck
father of The Thames;
coil to toss and catch. aside
vulture of the wreath
keeper of the scythe
march fast through April
play dead among the flies;
-
Author:
Melvin James (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 1st, 2021 01:45
- Comment from author about the poem: in memory of
- Category: Family
- Views: 29
Offline)
Comments1
if this is a biographical dedication, then I'm so sorry for your loss..
but know either way, you've penned
a write worth investing in
to fully explore, and cherish as a serenade
for the pure love of reading
thank you. a great loss, yes. but with loss came strength enough to share my words. words I will treasure. thanks again dear poet.
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