This is my third attempt at writing this poem. Twice it didn't post despite my efforts
I'm hoping this time is a positive result.
This blank page is blank no more filled with words my heart begs for My pen to strike again with words Of two if few will be my honor Tell me how to HOLLER I'll scream it from the pews As the weary King bows in its Lurid sky, it's dusk the clouds Are a shy dusty blue I stop and stand in places And dare and stare I implore the spirit of the words Tell me how I wish to write a story, a poem Of sorted glory Skipping stones at river's edge From the liquid ledge Weeds grew where the old mill SUGAR factory Used to be with sweetness on it's hills. Taste the morning air breaths of it Still there. The fresh of it spared to cheer and care I tell my pen fill every lonesome space With flare if you dare. I say to my face cherish the smile which looms near Chase a tear furnish my face with the BRIGHTNESS of day. In a blink the day is nearly down and done. Another day lays in wait One more twilight settling Dusk is stalling Harp strings serenade the dusk Listen to the evening SLIDING IN THE AUTUMN WIND
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