Melancholy
O Melancholy, my home-alone friend,
with Indolence conspiring to mark time,
with best intentions, and thoughts unpenned,
and faded vision, as the perfect rhyme,
so almost, so not quite, so very close,
distracted by my wastrel amigos.
If I could somehow loosen ties that bind,
and hold me in such unrelenting thrall,
if I the secret antidote could find,
to let me hear again the muse’s call,
my mind, now free, a-roving, unconcealed,
my deepest unsung thoughts in verse revealed.
Unending sojourn, inspiration sought,
and sometimes unexpectedly upturned.
When with the souls of poets we have walked,
their intimations shared, insights discerned,
if we, as in a dream, a trance adopt,
we too may tread their lofty mountaintop.
Copyright © Peter Rees | Year Posted 2023
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