Serenity

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No chundering

On friendly white pages

No promising

That they'll raise the wages

 

I know no philosophies

No wisdom or remedies

I know not of politics

No wars or calamities

 

I write no plays

No epics or tragedies

I swear no oaths

To those I loathe

Or to my dearies

Yet like you and them I

Seek scorned virtues

Like yours and theirs my

Thoughts have brewn

A place worthwhile

 

That which

Gentle winds and dreams

Had glorified

In some past

And groaning thunders seem

To bypass

 

Poetry, prose, song,

And where the likes of me belong

But where does the rain come from?

 

Reviews

[Wondering Mind]

From the ages of Time and the richness of Space, did you ask about rain? Or was it about the pain and sorrows of no tomorrows, or was your question about the beauty in a Love insane?