If he had known
He would have stepped
Into his soul
A promise kept
To reach for shadows
In a blackened sky
He would have smiled
No more to cry.
Grasping with
Those poetic hands
That held a pen
Ink to scratch
Words that sailed
Beyond mere sight
From clearest day
To falling night.
Embrace the rainbow
Fly with clouds
Shout each word
With passion crowned
Now the echo
Fades and leaves
Merely left alone
Mortality grieves.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: June 7th, 2026 03:25
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 33
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments4
A fine write N. Have you given up? Is it your last 'performance' of waiting for that bus?! lol.
yes, its taxis from now on. though I have grown fond of the bus stop, spent my best years there lol
Lol.
This poem seems to tell the tale of a writer, a poem written and with time forgotten buried in time and the loss grieved. Well done my friend
most kind, many thanks much appreciated read
Most welcome Norman
Very moving, Norman 🕊️🙏🏻
thanking you, always appreciated
Norman, this really moved me. What stays with me is the balance between loss and legacy. The poem mourns a passing, yet it also honors the imagination, passion, and words left behind. The image of a poet reaching beyond sight while leaving echoes for others to find gives the piece a poignant and lasting beauty. Wonderful work, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
too kind, thanking you and very much appreciated
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