Exacting wrinkled tribute line by line,
Time moulds the tale of each unfolding year,
Entrancing for a spell, til tumbling tear
Gouges ruts, cuts trembling Columbine.
Old age advances, hope must undermine.
Insubordinate to fard soon fears
Neath cold creams mushroom, one by one appear
As added sores when worries serpentine,
Respect refusing riches. Cheques can’t sign
Contentment, winter chimney, summer cheer.
At last, with hoary beard and bitter bier.
Descendant is the star which proud would shine.
It is no tree of life that rings the earth,
And I in shadows walk, yet fear rebirth...
Entrance for a spell might also bring
Timeless memories, mind lights rebirth,
Enraged entrapment caged, as from paged berth
Guard lifted, sentry spurned, free soul shall spring
Over, above man's mortal limits, sing
Intuitive true joy, transmit from Earth
New song old garments dress with healing mirth.
Address hope's message spiting mortal sting.
Rush counter clock, wise swirl, spiral, wing
Climbing skywards, surfing, soaring, worth
At last discover, mock apparent dearth,
Deride vain scoffer's coffer-coffin ring.
If life's tree be but mirage, still its leaves
Awake joy's book, whose leaves forget life grieves.
Adding your comment:
escendant is the star which proud would shine.
Lovely & profound penning, my Friend. I've always said that grief ebbs & flows, like the tide. Some days, the currents threaten to pull us under...other days, we relax & enjoy the warmth swirling around us immensely. This is a grand piece, Scribe. 