Robert Lindley Poet Rhyme

From a Dream, Three Quatrains Gifted

From A Dream, Three Quatrains Gifted


The Searching

I went forth into the windy forest
Through thistles, thorns and falling day
Crossing umber meadows and flowing stream
Forever seeking that which hath fled away.


The Flying

I went forth into midnight sleeping
From spinning cloud to cloud I fled
Far below, slow breeze comforted Fate
Whilst I slept alone in my bed.


The Denying

I went forth into tomorrow's churnings
As a child lost in the sorrowing haze
The sun there was a ball of distant red
And I, falling into its infinite blaze.

Robert J. Lindley, 4-12-2022
Poetry

Note:
Ok, note becomes the fourth, but definitely was not intended to be..
Thus, editing it now to give it the proper title..


The Understanding

Waking to rise, inking verse to stay afloat
O but a few words to the blue-cast skies
It was Goliath that the flying stone smote
Thus, laying devil low in his flesh-cast disguise…

Note:
"smote"

smite
/smit/
Learn to pronounce
verb
*****past tense: smote*****
1.
LITERARY
strike with a firm blow.

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Lady Labyrinth April 13, 2022 at 6:35 PM self, is the Goliath, one should never 'smote', but nurture with patience and gentle rebuke when grief says ego mustn't. :) x Robert Lindley April 14, 2022 at 5:13 AM So true my dear friend. Yet , it may be that one smites the left hand to wake-- the right.. Wake to anger and to stir to live to battle as one must. As truth is this world attacks constantly and has no pity on us. For darkness and evil hath no pity, no mercy, no rest. History repeatedly proves that to be the case. And what a sorry case it tis, imho. As it serves to highlight just what weak, flesh-born creatures we are. One must see, acknowledge and step up to counter that, if they want to walk in the light. As poets, we should write about that and endeavor to warn others-especially so the young. God bless..