A Conundrum of Contradictons
for those who write of nothing but “their” god
contribute to an ever growing wad
of crumbled thoughts and idle promises
comprised of all the do’s and don’ts and did’s
rephrased in rhapsodic search for cause
old lions licking at their thorn scarred paws
unable to deduce that beauty’s rose
is best enjoyed at distance by the nose
t’is not the howling wind that bows the trees
nor perdition’s threat that calms the raging seas
but the words I find indigenous to me
that I cherish and reluctantly set free
so crumble them – recycle if you must
old dreams recovered from life’s living dust
John G. Lawless
©6/12/2019
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