THE CLOAK I WEAR
My cloak a door that locks within
my own inept incertitude
my fingers cold from love that’s lost
with frozen tips that cannot turn
the buttons sewn in belted swathe
nor move the hinge that holds me fast
within its flowing folds.
- Author: Michael Edwards ( Offline)
- Published: May 22nd, 2017 00:01
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 33
Comments8
Good write and good painting.
A fine write and pic. I might have incerti-wotsit too! *gets out dictionary* heehee.
Quite an infliction: icerti doo dahs especially in the reverse backroscope
Love this - both picture and verse are so absorbingly good
Does the cloak of uncertainly protect the without from the within ? Or the within from the without are there any doubts ?
Depends whether you wear it outside in.
Thanks MICHAEL ~ For the perspective in both the Poem and the Painting. We all wear cloaks (very Harry Potter !) To protect and enhance our Outer Persona (Edwardian Men often sported a cloak) but also to cloak our Inner Weaknesses ~ Thanks for sharing ~ BRIAN.
beautiful work
Both brilliant !!!
Michael ...
I feel the struggle Michael. Great poem.
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