Being Kelpt

i'd dreamt of you 
why before now
before it all began 
to whither so 
beneath me 
i'd wandered throughtout 
tangile lessons 
hidden gestures 
lost saturday nights 
beyond a certain graveness 
i suppose silent
leaving nothing out 
you'd be there always
awaiting my entrance 
a still glance 
bouncing off the shoulders 
of sunday drivers 
mere bystanders 
hunters of solace 
for peace
Copyright © | Year Posted 2013

Poem

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Nicholsen Avatar
November 28, 2020 at 3:14 AM
Is it okay to love your own poetry or is it considered vain taboo I adore my own work inspiring myself to always continue my writing endeavors. Yolanda Nicholsen poet.
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