Tim B Poet Rhyme

Destiny Beat

Mesmerized by summers fire-breathing;
These wounded hearts barely beating,
Crescent moons align in shuddered dark;
Enlightenment gives the stinging mark,
Upon the brow that is deeply scowling;
Hand to her chin, then she's growling,
A victim unaware of summertime's rage;
He touches hell for hope of heavens sage,
Destitute, alone in summers lurid poem;
The wounded hearts still beat on,
Still beating, two beats per second;
Then down to one he reckoned,
At the stop sign,
Until.

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Elizabeth Wesley June 16, 2012 at 6:45 PM Summer's fire breathing isavery apt description of what we have here too. Ifind this full of dire descriptionsand lurid imagery Tim; and wished there were more to it. Once I get into a great poem, it need not stop!

Ronny Madonsela June 14, 2012 at 12:14 PM very amusing tone in the poem, the imagery jst written to perfection. This write inspired the young poet in. I very much admire your style of writting my friend. Jst beautiful. *smiles* RON

Russell Sivey June 13, 2012 at 11:22 AM What an intense and glorious write my friend! You sure have painted an image of grandiosity and magnificence! The emergence of this poem is greater than most poems that I have read! I really enjoyed this fabulous write Tim! Great Work!!

Elliott Bowe The Drunken Poet June 13, 2012 at 3:30 AM Tim,this poem is awesome!!!I LOVE THE IMAGERY !!! Thanks SOOO MUCH FOR SHARING!!!

Anne-Lise Andresen June 13, 2012 at 1:59 AM Beautiful poem Tim. - oxox Anne-Lise