Saints and Sinners
The smile is broad
But the heart is bile
an outstretched hand is birthed
from a saintly pouch
But alas, such as richly coated
but with a shortened desire
A frail passion
A flinty heart
devoid of piety
thus encapsulated
within a virtuous being
Whereby Enrobing both saints and sinners
Twilight turns into a thick black velvet blanket,
Enrobing the senses as through Dreamland we transit.
We are adrift, the limits of everyday life lifted.
Stranded in this passage, with dispelled disbelief we are gifted.
It’s a topsy-turvy world wherein our mind,
Ill fitting scenes doth entwine and unwind.
Solving problems, emoting or visiting souls who’ve passed,
Both observer and observed, at once are we cast.
We’re off balance, trying to keep from nightmares,
From fear, anxiety or intoxicating freedom beyond what we dare.
Expansively time traveling, flying vast distances, although
Marveling at the passing Dreamland below.
Daylight dawns amid dissolving dreams.
Both perplexed and refreshed, as we face sunbeams.
Thirsting for tattered tendrils signifying solace.
Resisting gently, we are beached onto consciousness.
How amazing mortals by light are transformed.
As a seamless switch between parallel worlds is performed.
Adding adventure to even hum drum everyday life,
Our passage through twilight to daylight is rarely without strife.
M. Renee Taylor
4-12-13
First evening's frost,
...a gentle touch-
to kiss the glass,
enrobing blanket 'pon the out,
neither heating, nor shielding-
...those unlucky few-
who chance upon it's love-
in the cruel chill of fortnight.
- I posted this poem but I am not sure about it. Is it fine as is, or can it be improved on?