And so we greet the smallest hours
Like a long lost friend
We mold the past like Moulton glass
And to our will it bends
We form the script sip by sip
These monuments are ours
To liberate our deepest truths
To breath in stolen hours
How sweetly do we bare our souls
Eased by amber ebb and flow
To tease from deepest dark recess
Our joy and pain like silloweats
But shadows fade at Daybreak's call
We bow our heads as eyes grow small
And now it seems we've drained our past
As sunlight fills an empty glass.
- Author: Anthony woodard ( Offline)
- Published: January 15th, 2017 09:15
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 51
Comments3
I love the flow and rhyme in this tribute to introspection in the "smallest hours" - great read Anthony.
Thanks for coment and taking the time to read my scribbles
I really like your writing style.. can't wait to read more of your poems 🙂
Thanks for taking the time
I will look at your work tonight
Cheers
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