Roll On Then Small Pebble
Roll On Then Small Pebble
in a pilgrims tattered boot
a guarantee of greater grace
for blood you cause to flow
discarded at the altar
your sacred chore complete
a hallowed place in heave
poor wretched pilgrim won.
in a chubby toddlers hand
browned and honey sweet
from days of summer sun
sleep by his feather pillow
safe in a treasure box
found again in twenty years
your meaning not quite lost.
in a limping, stallion hoof
of warring generals horse
panting in a mire of pain
stumbling on the enemy
surrounded by the foe
strategic battle almost won
was counted as a draw.
in a pocket deep and empty
but for you a last minute thought
plucked from harbours gritty pier
a touch stone to remember home
fair wind sighs a great adventure
to the disenfranchised throng
sailing in titanic hold.
Copyright © Patricia Cresswell | Year Posted 2017
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