what of it.....
the over is only
a blink from a dream-
a flutter of utter
on the edge of a scream...
the planning is only
a forward in hope-
a smiling and filing
on the edge of a rope...
the laughter is only
an instant of zing-
a burbling and gurgling
on the edge of a ring...
the weeping is only
a slither of pain-
a crying and sighing
on the edge of insane...
the poem is only
a shimmer of smile-
a brushing and crushing
on the edge of awhile...
Joy Weare,
28th December, 2008.
Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades
Vote for this poem
Please Comment On This Poem
|
|
|
|
|
poet7925 |
|
|
|