In a land of weak resistance,
I find myself swimming in a field,
a field of green pasture and bright sunshine.
I find myself a hand's lonely wield.
And even though I know not the warmth
and even though I know not the sight
I know what mine eyes might.
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Comments
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I really like this, I wanted it to keep going.
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hello
there's something about this, but it reads like an outline, an idea
didn't understand 'hand's lonely wield'...unless you are the sword
need more! I thought you might include red in the 2nd verse
it's the sort of write that suggests a lot, but says nothing
like a puzzle!
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Thank you. That was the point, really, to be deceptive and cunning. Real poetry is not revealing, and the writer must hazard the riddles one is trying to convey.
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