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I wearied of the live long day

by Harry

Submitted by Bluesoul2016

I wearied of the live long day
as carpenters of stone,
I ran down halls of ennui
as cracking night at noon .

The shade of such black forest
and granite roughly hewn
was blacker than the firmament
the moment before dawn.

Then as fingers tiptoed
orange before blue
Then a face before me
Mine own , and parvenu!

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Posted on April 1, 2016 at 6:59 PM in Non authors poem, Poetry   |  RSS feed |   Reply   |   Trackback URL

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