PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Here silent time have kept not a day dense
But flowers track the sun and swallow light,
In, till the earth green gloat tear out fragrance
Of grass, it rich, nature thing and posing tree
Closer, the branches fall and pull back from me
In into shapes of it that a shadow can trace;
A drooping free leaflet bunch, a garden's face.
This life in motion has me the diamond- rock
And Glass of time I've yet to see in my walk!
And haters seen, a few, a lot but unknown
Of who may be behind the deeds of my own.
Clasp me the hand of God, and the hands of fans
Till giants clip and play the songs I began
With Lyre strings awoken from death to ear.