The Weary Poet, by Albert Ahearn
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Lethargic verbs coax sleepy nouns
along verses of poetry
in the wee hours of the night.
A flickering fluorescent Light
tremulously glows its paleness
above the weary poets head,
each tremor depriving him sleep.
The first rays of sunlight shine through
the rooms window, devouring
the artificial annoyance
while his tired head slowly descends
onto his outstretched left forearm;
the pen still resting in his hand
while his dreams devise completion.
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Posted: 2012-09-02 17:09:10 UTC |
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2012-11-03 22:19:21 | Malcolm Moss |
I can see him and khow how we feels.
Malc |
2012-11-12 03:05:13 | Malcolm Moss |
Albert. Thank you for your constructive comments on my attempts. Unfortunaely I shall be in the Fijian bush for some while and out of contact. Regards. Malcolm. |