The Real Tears
Those melancholic eyes and downturned lip,
Resembling not so much a whining dog
As sorrow crafted with a stagehand’s whip
Or acted by some theatre’s thespian cog,
Did glisten once with tears of salt and truth,
Conveying more the fear of a gazelle
Than mocking looks of crocodiles uncouth;
And thus protective instincts came to swell.
With words of consolation and replies
Of wordless love addressed upon the ear,
I tried to tease out sweet chirrups and sighs,
And out the pores the flaming fever steer.
Ebullience half-drowned by th’urge to weep
Recalled the duty love had made us keep.
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
