Welcome to My Poetry Site
Portrait Of The Artist As An Old Man
What once held me captive,
now sets me free
My wanderlust blowing away
The clouds and horizon,
that buttressed my world
Meld, as the night into day
Those words never chosen,
survive on their own
Verses dry, all wings taking flight
What used to confound me,
present, future, and past
Joined as one-in a fusion of light
(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2019)
now sets me free
My wanderlust blowing away
The clouds and horizon,
that buttressed my world
Meld, as the night into day
Those words never chosen,
survive on their own
Verses dry, all wings taking flight
What used to confound me,
present, future, and past
Joined as one-in a fusion of light
(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2019)
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Portrait Of The Artist As An Old Man
Portrait Of The Artist As An Old Man