In solitary stillness wait,
the rambling thoughts of youth;
Where poets' lines caress the page,
with honor, love and truth.
As inspiration flows within,
the barren minds of old;
Each word evokes portrayals,
in colors bright and bold.
The Muse connects the dots between,
the present and the past;
While lightning strikes of intellect,
shatter life's perpetual hourglass.
Yet time can often be a friend,
to all whose fond desire;
Reflects creative forces which,
arise like blazing fire.
Reactions to the mute defeat,
all thoughts in fair design;
Turn blatantly each missive's tale,
toward clear reasoning and rhyme.
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 11:45 AM UTC
In solitary stillness wait,
the rambling thoughts of youth;
Where poets' lines caress the page,
with honor, love and truth.
As inspiration flows within,
the barren minds of old;
Each word evokes portrayals,
in colors bright and bold.
The Muse connects the dots between,
the present and the past;
While lightning strikes of intellect,
shatter life's perpetual hourglass.
Yet time can often be a friend,
to all whose fond desire;
Reflects creative forces which,
arise like blazing fire.
Reactions to the mute defeat,
all thoughts in fair design;
Turn blatantly each missive's tale,
toward clear reasoning and rhyme.