Her Swift Chariot I Await
From a swift wind may she return this night,
may the moon delight the path less traveled
and make mighty her heals;
for this tiny flower wan in her meadow,
where lightning rips the skeletal gloom,
(where she knows not which way to heaven) ---
but the Star which shines above forgotten tombs....
How I miss her warmth....
while the night pours melancholy
and the sky thunders forbidden secrets.....
For many a moon shall pass til I have her home;
where it is now all but empty.....
and the clock ticks not for time,
but a cruel, long wait, and ill tidings grin....
Have me faith while the devil licks his lips,
and throws sharp stones,
from a desolate deep dark;
She is mighty with me and I with She,
no death could give us part ---
no gate from hell to keep us apart;
with the strong arms of the Lord,
(her swift chariot I await)
*** A prayer and a plea that my girlfriend has a
swift recovery in the hospital***
Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2017
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment