The Perfect Dawn
I'll softly sing a lullaby this night
Sadly howling at a mournful moon.
Be still my heart of grieving blight
The perfect dawn is coming soon.
I'll light a candle in the dark
A yellow beacon of despair.
One by one the stars I'll mark
For rosy dawn in hope prepare.
Sail softly over these stormy seas
Silver tinted the soapy waterways.
Be still my heart of searing memories
The promise of dawn brings better days.
Don't rock the boat in foamy wake
Hold tight onto rudders of grief.
Be still my heart in Sorrows Lake
The perfect dawn will bring relief.
Quite a while back a fellow poet was quite vocal as to what constitutes bad poetry, giving
numerous examples. The above poem contains many of these examples, trying to prove that
one man's trash, could very well be another man's poem. Let's stir the soup.
Copyright © Heidie Buys | Year Posted 2008
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