Who wanted without the knowing
And grew without the sowing
Standing there in awkward stance
Viewing all with eyes askance
Asking without reasoned why
Reaching vain to touch the sky
For in whose hands with futile grip
The beams of sun and moon doth slip
And lips that sing the lullabies
Seldom heard but often cried
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Author:
Rhan Sterling Henry (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 4th, 2026 09:48
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 10
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments1
Lovely rhyme and meter in this poem of images and a subtle message. A fave for sure
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