flashes of happiness
are what we live for; strive for;
quick hits of contentment
as we ride, or play well
this mad, game/storm
of our lives...
but
will you hold fast? will we?
while blasted onto blunted rocks;
these crude formations, fading in;
blocking routes.
will we stand tall, and at the last?
beyond the after; not just before
we tried to make those moments last.
no,
it's not all plain sailing -
brows furrow once more -
clouds, they crowd back in;
we'll tow again on that long, and winding line
binding us all;
leading us in - to some far shore -
or as Browning said
'what's a Heaven for?'
June 2018
YOU ARE READING
in ash on the sand (last burnt poems)
PoetryA handful of final, random poems, from 2016+ I'd thought I'd given up writing poems, so these will probably be the last. For free here on wattpad. For more artwork and info, plus any contribution/support (if you think they're worth something?): vis...
