Upon moments breath
I bury ghosts
That surrender soft
Like glimpses caught
Of past hours sweet
In tenderness sought
Your figure at
The gates in thought.
The fiery skies
Are but flaming stars
To tremble meekly
Long and scarred
In violent passion
Neatly folded
The memory
But a token.
A gesture that
Was thrown adrift
A longing
That once was kissed
Within an hour
A wretched thing
Listen closely
To everything.
-
Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: October 4th, 2026 03:08
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
Offline)
Comments1
Loved the combination of rhyme with short meter to set the tone of this poem. It becomes like a metronome in its ticking pulling one onward toward the end. Nicely done my friend.
thanks and appreciation for the read my friend
My pleasure Norman
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