Place him fondly to your breast
As if his mother let him rest
Time for warmth security peace
In his illness let him sleep.
The days he knows not
They ceased to be
Like marble markers
In a rolling sea.
His war is over
His battles won
Now he fevers
This lonely one.
Each fairy footfall
Slight but heard
In bitter passion
Of every word.
We see but not
As clearly as he
Who rests at bosom
Dreams that be.
The only wonder left at all
To seek new shelters now it falls
Time for warmth security peace
In his illness let him sleep.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: September 5th, 2023 04:10
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
Offline)
Comments1
Great poem! Especially the way it started.... totally captures the emotions. Keep going!
thanks for your kind words
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