Seren Roberts Poet Quatrain

The Poets Pluck- Samuel Taylor Coleridge

The Poets Plucker….. Samuel Taylor Coleridge


Here in my cold lonely bed I ponder my all
I have FEARS in SOLITUDE of being alone
DEJECTION of my love had pierced my heart…..yet
THE NIGHTINGALE sings lustily a cheerful tune

My consciousness behaves as  EOLIAN HARP
as Coleridge poem suggests full of delusion
So through opaque glass  my window I cannot see
FROST AT MIDNIGHT has now spoilt for me this vision

So with dejection, curl into a foetal ball
hiding In THIS LIME-TREE BOWER A PRISON MAKE 
I await my fate, wondering will my heart heal
Will I from my ongoing pity…soon awake

penned 5 February 2017

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Sunlite Wanter February 5, 2017 at 6:11 PM I loved it, too. The writing is so expressive, but I hope your sadness falls into the category of "this, too, passes." Seren Roberts February 6, 2017 at 4:43 AM hello and thank you Sunlite....so pleased to see you....Seren

Arthur Vaso February 5, 2017 at 5:55 PM I really loved the poem, even sad makes me want to give a big hug in the end! Seren Roberts February 6, 2017 at 4:47 AM Hi my friend thanks for stopping by and commenting....Seren