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Open Poetry #38
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O sorrow, how thee woes the wound,
| Open Poetry #38 |
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O sorrow, how thee woes the wound, |
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RedStoneEB Senior Member
since 2003-06-08
Posts 772uk 
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O sorrow, how thee woes the wound, I shall not die nor be slain by thou; the battlefield-- a savage garden-- were I to look beyond myself shall see those whom hath died – neither wandering nor wondering. For blossomed flowers do wilt, Fallen petals forget the roots of birth; in whose hand shall the fair breast of mother-nature fall-- and neither thou nor I hast fathered virgin wilderness and yet I do not fear death to be apart of the earth. Thy spirit wields the swords of life, O sorrow, ‘tis thee whom shall die; I cannot die! on a cunning thought-- O fairer be the night of day without reason one shall die before the other takes its place. Be I to death—be sent? Whose heart is noble of a beat; and eyes—what eyes—these eyes-- be mine alone to stare upon Sweet Sorrow plays the aching heart-- ’tis thou I love to be apart O sorrow, I cannot die! |
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| © Copyright 2006 Lee Hepworth - All Rights Reserved | |||
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aziza Member Elite
since 2006-07-09
Posts 2995Lumpy Oatmeal makes me Crazy! |
Your poetry is a joy to read. It flows like a song -- thank you for sharing such beautiful words and images. aziza |
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