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s-lyman-templePoems
Lost in the fluidic movements of Keats Feeling each line, steady rhythm ‘n beats Sending my head spinning, beautiful tune Swooning all love-struck hooked on the spring moon Glancing gay-fully over hill ‘n yon Silently anticipating the breaking of dawn brought back in a flourish reading aloud tears well up as I destroy this old shroud keeping me locked up so tight…life, no air thinking repeating rhyming couplets lead only to despair but here is a romantic from days past creating lovely pictures that do last with only his words, ink, quill, and parchment thoughts, ideas, love, being different, setting them free on wings of written word allowed then to soar, spectacular bird then to perch on tongues of well-spoken men let loose on the world, set free once again travelling sounds delighting each sweet ear giving peace to downtrodden… far, and near offering some solace to the forlorn on the darkest and coldest dreary morns these sounds which fly so high, brighten the sky swirl in the mouths of our loves when we die –
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Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 4:44 PM UTC
thinking of Keats
Lost in the fluidic movements of Keats Feeling each line, steady rhythm ‘n beats Sending my head spinning, beautiful tune Swooning all love-struck hooked on the spring moon Glancing gay-fully over hill ‘n yon Silently anticipating the breaking of dawn brought back in a flourish reading aloud tears well up as I destroy this old shroud keeping me locked up so tight…life, no air thinking repeating rhyming couplets lead only to despair but here is a romantic from days past creating lovely pictures that do last with only his words, ink, quill, and parchment thoughts, ideas, love, being different, setting them free on wings of written word allowed then to soar, spectacular bird then to perch on tongues of well-spoken men let loose on the world, set free once again travelling sounds delighting each sweet ear giving peace to downtrodden… far, and near offering some solace to the forlorn on the darkest and coldest dreary morns these sounds which fly so high, brighten the sky swirl in the mouths of our loves when we die –
s-lyman-temple
Written by
s-lyman-temple
American
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 4:44 PM UTC
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