A Poem by Beto

Gates, the likes of which man may hope not construct, hold little reason to bear patience for the hesitant.


The fingers of the wind gently 
his face caress
and sand, like feathers trims 
the beard of fallen cares 
as wraps tatter and tatter 
to bring a rhytm to his rest
and distant belltolls clatter
to blow peace upon his breast. 

One, two, three... 

The spirit which was of the body 
now unbound may rise, 
laying gaze upon oasis 
where time no more flies 
and beauties of the desert 
so swarthy yet so pale 
adorned with rainbow gold 
sip from ageless grail 
in water where spilled there are 
bauble, gem and crown 
and merry little fishes 
save all who could drown. 

One, two, three... 

Before teased to join and bathe
he held chance to be 
ancient flutes and roaring drums 
carried him to see 
gates standing taller than Babylon proud 
and so much more beautiful than body allowed 
he knew what had come. 

One... Two... 

Then halted he for far too long, 
Lost he had become. 

As wind's hand clasped his form
fierce then grew the drum 
and flutes, if body there 
stood, able to hear and stare 
would tear the ears apart.

Dragged, for hours it felt
the sobbing spirit cried,
no matter how many times
"Let go!" could not decide
against his fate so imminent
the desert passed and passed 
until the spirit realized 
no paradise may last.

© 2019 Beto

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Your poetic expression here is divine itself. Your imagery exceptional. So pleased am I to chance upon a poem of this quality. Thank you Beto.


Posted 1 Year Ago

Absolutely exceptionally exquisite write; the wordplay, imagery and stanza flow were both creative and powerful - bravo my friend for such a great share! Just loved the read; an inspiration piece... :-)

Posted 4 Years Ago


4 Years Ago

Ah, thanks for stopping by and all the kind words.

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2 Reviews
Added on December 14, 2018
Last Updated on January 21, 2019
Tags: poem, paradise, very happy not decadent poem



I'm a poet for the most part, writing commentary and whatnot in a decadent style. Sometimes I'm proud of my work, sometimes I'm not, always looking for feedback. Inspirations; G. Orwell, R.W. Cham.. more..

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A Poem by Beto