A Barren Road
I tread the barren road alone
in eerie twilight dusk,
for all the seeds my mind has sown
they profit only husk,
just empty shells, from fervent toil
that cause my fevered brow to boil,
just empty shells,
just empty shells
lie scattered over arid soil.
I search the barren road alone,
fine sifting through the dust,
for just a hint that words have grown
from inspiration’s lust.
No verse is found amidst the dark
and silenced is the singing lark,
no verse is found
no verse is found
as desolation doubts the spark.
I plough the barren road alone
to delve within my soul,
through thorny bramble overgrown
creation takes a stroll.
A hint of rhyme amongst the trees
begins to stir a stagnant breeze,
a hint of rhyme
a hint of rhyme
now whispers soft, my dreams to tease.
Copyright © Sharon Tideswell | Year Posted 2010
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