Its Gleaming Light-Beams Washing My Old Soul
Its Gleaming Light-Beams Washing My Old Soul
So sad about some far-off hidden things
That are not my business, no not me
Washing these feet in such soothing hot springs
No not I, nosey as a damn ole busy bee!
Along the mountains, its jutting ridges
I walk admiring that fabulous star
Cross I the famous great seven bridges
This heart yet blinded wondering where we are!
Its gleaming light-beams washing my old soul
Saw evening as it slowly crept in
My worries stabbed me taking their deep toll
I a warrior but heavy are my sins!
There walked with majesty, the black-maned boar.
Snout rutting the ground, to find its next score!
Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet
Jan. 5th, 1979
Last edited by Tyr-Ziu Saxnot; Today at 08:33 AM.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
