Tag Archives: #short

A HUNDRED POEMS – XVI

The morning eye dew
i love it sees a new day untouched
a breath of sight so grand
a peace-inner speak-eye!
Tussle the bed sheets;
a flag that Nation for the sleeper
my Anthem made of murmur whisper-speak
my tender love!

And each morning to awaken
do i see my Nation
next to me that Anthem
her name and lips her voice;
angelic bliss!

:: 03-26-2014 ::


QUEUE

A wrinkle of mine grew
beyond common wisdom
a divine proposition;
each road taken drawn
upon one’s face.
A younger one uncharted
the elders well-traveled;
unborn within the queue.

:: 03.07.2020 ::