Age, Do Bear With Me, Thus

14 Jul

Age, do bear with me, thus,
tarry that my fancies stain,
and ebb with day and night;

‘ere long gone sorrow cools,
but with a tender sweetness,
do I, but in this vein, delight;

‘ere consuming of stone days,
burdened ill by wilding hands,
age, spawn yet more ignite;

that I may feel the burning
of a newly darkened sky,
and of its tear-stained light;

that with each falling rain,
does my soul speak to me,
searing its wisdom so bright;

and I listen to its sad song,
but one which might heal,
and give to my mind sight;

with a raw, tempered rain,
tears cling to wanton flesh,
as tho’ by its inherent right.

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Posted by on July 14, 2017 in My Poetry



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