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The Broken Urn

Eyes flared in agitation Damasked in utmost lament The tyrants laughed in vanity Remains of his mother lie still As if the winds were holding their breath The urn cracked and cold as night Alone, the eyes softened His heart a hermit of radiance Temples tingled as silence stayed The unprofaned laughter now ash-shamed Hot tears of fervor reduced their pig-headed ways He kneeled to his mother as they gazed In the urn she no longer cried Even in the urn did she not abide April 28, 2014

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014




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Date: 6/1/2014 10:40:00 AM
Laura....intense....absorbed with multiple readings....each read picking up nuances...good poem...jimbo
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Date: 5/28/2014 6:23:00 PM
The different points of view that come from the variety of behaviors and the shame that was felt by the heartless are making me smile :).
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Date: 5/27/2014 1:55:00 AM
Laura, you have become a Master Poetess before my happy eyes. I am just so merrily saggered by your brilliance. This reminds me of my Mother and her unbreakable tenacity, I thank you. Love how she refused to settle for ashes, and his loyalty is so moving. I quote the entire write, admiring the language, and vision, wow!!! Another FAV. J.A.B.
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