Mike Jones Poet Quatrain

A Frozen Mire

My tortured weary body aches,
While my minds bright embers aglow,
The songbirds of sorrow awaits,
Reaping dark empty seeds I sow.

Lost traversing aimlessly through,
The lush spring prairies full of life,
I seem to unknowingly choose,
Desolate vast tundras of ice.

A colorless empty wasteland,
Slows down my once wondrous journey,
Turning my hueless eyes face down,
Numbing the thoughts that concern me.

Devaluating precious time,
And prioritizing my pain,
Has left self-loathing in my prime,
With a pessimistic disdain.

I have known that for survival,
Trapped within this frigid glacial world,
Atonement flourished revival,
Sent within a single warm word.

Precipitous licking fire,
It's flares echo from up above,
Precipitates the muck and mire,
To precipitation of love.

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Poet Destroyer A April 9, 2016 at 2:08 AM Once again, I am enjoying your poem, and I will express this line because it is my fav and I will relate it to my last comment to you. Numbing the thoughts that concern me. <--- awesome... LINDA Mike Jones April 9, 2016 at 2:52 AM Thank you for your genorous compliments. Very true. I hadn't thought too much of that line. I love the way you brought that to my attention. I think I just need a little more cowbell. Lol thank you for commenting my friend.

Skat A September 27, 2015 at 5:10 PM WOW, Mike, this is brilliant. I love the way you used many of the words here. Thanks for sharing this brainy ice cap.... LOVE SKAT Mike Jones September 27, 2015 at 5:15 PM Ha! Thanks Skat!