If the day is beautiful
the birds will sing it.
A cat may purr it.
Morning's pillow lights
arrow through the curtain.
A makeshift sheet
till better times suffice.
Filter sunlight leaves
upon the carpet.
Small incursion
of what lay beyond four walls.
Today assembles yesterday's
grim determining.
Tomorrow is the now
come to soon.
When you lose the will of morning
you are halfway home.
Something of an adage
square pegs and rounded holes.
I sense there is no sound
to things not trodden.
An orchestra will wait
the weight of living.
Thou I see the glum
kick the leaves in autumn
I know the birds are happy
in the sky.
Comments: The circle of life completes itself. Nice poem.
Name: phattkat
Comments: You can do better. In line fifteen, "to" should be "too." This is a compilation of platitutdes, David,
and I'm dismayed.
You can write such stunningly beautiful things, but you do this. Others may disagree, and probably will. Anyway, glad to see you back again.
Name: RhymeMaster
EMail: rhymer01@thewritersnook.com
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