Poem for Saturday

Because it’s a poem. And it’s Saturday.

He shatters, violent, lascerated

crystal shards and tears

and love once wild and celebrated

withered, froze in winters depth

and counts lost wasted years

.

And lost he wanders aching,

broken, without port or land

in sight and hope seems taken

until there bright on horizon

‘gainst the tempest she does stand

.

She takes his pieces, safe, collected

fingers, bloodied, red and torn

he wonders lost but not neglected

and battered by the fury dark

He waits at break of morn’

.

Land firm beneath his feet he feels

her sun upon his skin

find home and hearth, hears church bells peel

there warmed, and safe, another chance

a new chance to begin

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author: Michael

Husband, dad,programmer, comic collector and proud Yorkshireman. I have no idea why im here or why im writing but i rather enjoy it. no great fan of punctuation;

5 thoughts on “Poem for Saturday”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s