She is not the rain,
tho’ she may oft cry
with such thunderous wail,
that one may suffer sorrow
as if standing waist deep
in a sea of all her tears.
She is not the wind,
tho’ she may oft sigh
with such fiercesome gail,
that one may beg or borrow
from her breathless keep,
and breathe away their fears.
She is not the sky,
tho’ she may oft fly
with such wonderous sail,
that one may see tomorrow
in dreams, within sleep,
thus winged, fly for years.
Kat
August 27, 2016 at 11:05 am
❤
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johncoyote
September 20, 2016 at 4:46 pm
Reblogged this on johncoyote and commented:
Amazing poetry by a talented writer. Please read and enjoy.
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Daniel J. Antil
September 20, 2016 at 5:15 pm
Thank you!
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johncoyote
September 20, 2016 at 8:47 pm
Good words need to be read by more people and you are welcome.
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johncoyote
September 20, 2016 at 4:47 pm
The poem is outstanding. Thank you for sharing.
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Daniel J. Antil
September 20, 2016 at 5:15 pm
Thank you for your high praise! I am honored!
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johncoyote
September 20, 2016 at 8:46 pm
You are welcome.
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