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Open Poetry #17
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The Dross of Pathos
| Open Poetry #17 |
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The Dross of Pathos |
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Seymour Tabin Member Empyrean
since 1999-07-07
Posts 31720Tamarac Fla 
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The Dross of Pathos The grate of pathos makes for dross. From gray of loss, to beds of moss. Only time, can finish the plan. Fertile the moss, sweeten the man. Spring has gone and December cold. The fire old and does not hold. Its embers stir. They sigh for care. While slurs of ashes die of wear. Small embers search in hope and cling, New whorls of winds, another spring. Another flight of fragiles dove, A sometimes late and winter love. I asks no kind or homage lift, No dying kiss set me adrift. It would a final gusty cry, Aye, one more, one more lusty try. Although the fire fails of wear, The mind, the mind, still echoes dare. |
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| © Copyright 2001 Seymour Tabin - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Ah, that eternal mind...may it ever reign! I've missed you, Sy-guy! |
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Seymour Tabin Member Empyrean
since 1999-07-07
Posts 31720Tamarac Fla |
Sunshine, Can't say how much I missed you. *L* |
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Kethry Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-29
Posts 9082Victoria Australia |
Sy, How do you do this, you take a thougtht and twist it around and fire it until it becomes pure gold . Kethry Here in the midst of my lonely abyss, a single joy I find...your presence in my mind. Unknown |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
Keth...I can answer that.... because hes a poet of pure gold... his pen holds the secrets of wisdom untold.  and his Randy dragon aint half bad either LOL |
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Seymour Tabin Member Empyrean
since 1999-07-07
Posts 31720Tamarac Fla |
Kethry, I got it from an old clown, he did it all the time. Made tragedy into laughter. Thanks Keth. |
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Seymour Tabin Member Empyrean
since 1999-07-07
Posts 31720Tamarac Fla |
JM, Speaking of Randy, he just put on his double saddle and took off. I think he was headed in your direction. WW S |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
Only time, can finish the plan. Fertile the moss, sweeten the man. ======================================== Its embers stir. They sigh for care. While slurs of ashes die of wear. Small embers search in hope and cling, New whorls of winds, another spring. ========================================== I asks no kind or homage lift, No dying kiss set me adrift. It would a final gusty cry, Aye, one more, one more lusty try. Although the fire fails of wear, The mind, the mind, still echoes dare. ========================================== *smiling at you* I need a new word to define your consistant clever word play... a new word to express my impress of your verbiage and rhymes, because ... "so cool" dont cut it...wont touch it...dont do you justice. Not even when I type it all in CAPS OF SO COOL ... not even when I spell it with a K for SO KEWL .... not even when I bold it SO COOL not even when I shout it ... SO COOL!!! nope...none of that says it well enough ... maybe I'll throw a dictionary at you LOL How about I serve Alphabet Soup at our next tea for two and we will spell with our spoons *winkiewinkie*  mePS ... very very very cool poem Stinky *L* When your own emptiness is all thats getting through there comes a point when youre not sure why youre still talking... I passed that point long ago [This message has been edited by Janet Marie (12-30-2001 09:19 AM).] |
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Seymour Tabin Member Empyrean
since 1999-07-07
Posts 31720Tamarac Fla |
JM, your answer was so cool my eyes got stuck to the comment. You will always be my butterfly my Tinkerbell my Winkiewinkie, blinky blinky And I will alway be your Stinky. I will bring some crumpets for our raspbery tea. Love. |
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