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Ebbing From My Hand

Should life run ebbing from my hand
Let my self, as whole, command
That peaceful slumber will endure
And so be kept in piteous grandeur.

For sure to aft or port I roam--
The sands of time, Your fingers comb--
Keep in peace my coming past.
And guard me from the dangers, vast.

With this final word I sigh
And brush my cheeks until they dry.
For soon will come the end at last,
And then away to distant past.

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Comments

1 - 5 of 5
  • I agree with Rose - this poem is a tad sadder than what I'm used to see from you, hon'. =3 Despite this, however, it's still wonderful to see some of your work after so long.

    I have my own interpretation of this, seeing as how I'm also married to a man of the service. Not sure if that's what you were even going for, but that's what I felt - longing for a loved one who is overseas. //Shrug.//

    In any event, this is a very thought provoking piece. <3 Keep up the brilliant work.


    • dragondancer
      March 17
      Edit | Reply
      I have a rather nasty case of writer's block right now. : / So I haven't been writing much of anything. And, no, this has nothing to do with my honey being overseas. He's been back for about 2 years now. So I'm not sure where exactly its coming from. Then again, some of my favorite writes are always random words strung together in on emotion or another. Thanks for the comment!

  • I've never seen you write something so sad and hopeless, sis. Your poetry was almost always cheerful and full of some sort of life and hope. I hope nothing's got you down to be writing this way.

    • dragondancer
      March 17
      Edit | Reply
      I have written things far more dreary than this, Hon. Most of it when I was a great deal younger. But it's nothing to worry about. Poetry has always been my outlet for frustrations and such things.

1 - 5 of 5