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Songs of Soul COS No 3: ABAB
Quest be, will we exist ... 'tis hit or miss
be of a lifetime. I gave no degree
of my retractions that constants amiss
my seeing yon desk an intimacy
be measured as the worth of passages.
A ponderous virtue partook a smile
that placed atop lap held, arched assuages,
instantly noted, that after a while,
what had parted yon me cannot have gone
unnoticed, mainly, in closeness to me.
I barely moved; could one part day from dawn.
A book was returned, oh my, could it be?
Not lap or arched back, he stares at the floor,
torn mind as a book sits unfound once more.
Copyright ©
Hilo Poet
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