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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Each Night He Heard Steps Of Death's Forward Guard (Stand Back, I Got This One His Muse Cried) He was now old, ancient, older than dirt even his tired bones ached, everything hurt. Those bad dreams, on and on they swiftly came horrible images of he hobbled and lame! What cursed ravages Time and Fate had wrought now still alive, he knew his soul was caught. Gone are days of living, sweet love and joy small relief found, dreaming he was a boy. Each night he heard steps of death's forward guard enduring such fear, living was too hard! Yet try as he may, no remedy was found soon he would be planted in cold hard ground! Dawn, into that long dark shadow he fell with one foreboding thought, Heaven or Hell? Robert J. Lindley, 4-16-2017 Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 11 10 10 10 10 10 10 11 10 0 10 10 Total # Syllables: 142 Total # Words: 114 Note: I chose to write a dark and sad sonnet about old age and facing death... Well actually my muse chose (not I), I was just too tired to fight her and just wise enough to let her take control for a change.. Upon completion, I turned to give her my sincere thanks. I found that she had quickly far away fled I found a rather interesting note instead Here is the truth and best of it that I read for these informative words she said I hope soon into that dark shadow you step so many a year now, I have grieved and wept As my host you have given me great grief your passing shall me gift me my relief I wrote those verses giving me comfort and joy to me you are just a sad and broken old toy When into that shadow you may soon fall I hope you crash into that giant fiery ball Now leave me be, I want to take a long break you are a cantankerous old man I forsake Now folks, fear not, this note has often been read wrote each of the hundreds of times she has fled Later she comes back with words mellow and sweet with presents and bowing while washing my feet I forgive her each time and onward we race I can not resist her lips, that beautiful face. ALL WRITTEN WITH IMAGINATION AND LOADS OF POETIC LEEWAY....
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