PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

December's soul of grace

sleeps softly in the quiet morrow's

meadow of light

tossed in to a whirlwind

I gave myself up to the fog

yet, chose not to fight

for with such disastrous trimmings

the outcome has started me to worry

when will there approach the likes of

such another night

and can the broader side of the spectrum

veil the force of flurry

as these shaky words attempt to take

back their bite

have I somehow only managed to smother all

my hopes in the dark odors of my hellish

spite

that I would beg you to ask me tomorrow

for my opinion of tonight

for if I had to further speak of this moment's

slighted feeling

I don't believe I could get it quite right

instead I would likely have a small break down

or merely cry................

(Feb. 6, 1994 am)