The Lonely Poet

The poet and the lonely road, betwixt his netherworld abode, in canyons deep, and in seldom trodden creeps, Always secrets, secrets.... too kept ---- he has made his humble abode, in the dark alone, he sleeps ---- with vipers and white (sepulchre) tombs (alone) He does not see the meadow, and daisies, (rising sun) nor words of wisdom on his tongue; fall away, to dark netherworld abodes.... Poet be he not, 'til fellowship and gratitude be his home, and grace in word be his love; of good cheer to all concerned and more ---- should even shadow knocketh, of this he writes Written in 2012