Michael Edwards




A gust of wind slams shut the door

as, cold and damp, the night invades

his greying locks of unkempt hair

and dead leaves blow in ragged turmoil.


Shattered now the ornate glass

in scattered shards beyond repair

as each new footfall careless placed

endures the cuts of indiscretion. 


And as his breath like fog balloons,

no artificial dusk of neon

penetrates the black of night

and dark grey clouds defy the moon. 


Freed now from fraudulent imagery,

ahead he walks the mossy path

where grief, regret and loneliness

bear no relief from torments grasp.



Michael Edwards © October 2015



  • willyweed

    I like the poem and the picture. nice work! ww

  • Augustus

    Seems to be part of a larger story. I like the imagery. Also you are quite the artist.

  • Michael Edwards

    Thanks both - glad you like my scribblings

  • 🐤s.zaynab.kamoonpuri🌷😸

    Deep, intense and sublime abstract. Ends on soulful notes. Awesome poem indeed. Kudos.

    U r most welcome to comment under my latest poem too . I'm quite a new poet here but have been writing poetry since years and readers enjoyed it elsewhere or got sth from it until I found this site and wish to make new poem pals.

  • Michael Edwards

    Thanks once again Kathy. You have hit the nail on the head - I am currently working on two collections of poems titled: Painting With Words (the serious stuff) and Sketching with Words (the more whimsical). Writing quite a bit of poetry at the moment as the art market is a bit slow at this time of the year.

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