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
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