Cheer

The grave is...

poetry's bed...

the skull...

it's pillow...

one single hope...

alight on loneliness...

it's fellow...

and they...

together cling...

as lovers do...

they weep...

they spin...

the spinning loom...

o'rhyme to tangle them...

and there...

they whisper...

in the dark...

and cast around...

for radiance...

and laugh...

when it is found...

so...

here and happ'ly...

at that...

the last place...

had been thought...

to find...

a renaissance...

of cheer...

for 'umble poetry...

has little...

in the way...

to let it down...


Written by Bruce James Clyde 2015