Poems from oldfashionedpoet
My child,
You are tiny and unseen,
No more than a handful of breathing, a handful of heartbeats.
Or you were,
For now you lie broken,...
I could paint upon a stage,
Upon myself, another name,
And fool the watchers with my art,
And die in beds of green and fame...
I could paint upon a stage,
Upon myself, another name,
And fool the watchers with my art,
And die in beds of green and fame...
Dear Lord,
And then the thought vanishes
Like ink words never written on a page.
The words that fall like glistening coins from my lips...
The king within his castle looked out upon the sky, The dead-still air seemed restless, the sunlight seemed to die. The clouds came...