Poems, poets, poetry, writing, poetry challenges
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My memory is like gray rolling hills
where smoke and ash and haunting dragons hide
the sins I have forgotten through my pride
and could repeat should pleasure offer thrills.
The consequences though would give me chills
were I aware. Main paths are much too wide.
The narrow one’s too slippery? May I slide
into the hands of God whose Spirit fills.
Linda Kruschke offers new Paint Chip phrases for this week’s octave. Eugenia offers “haunting” as her Thursday Prompt.
Frank, this is an excellent octave and your words send a worthy message.
Thank you, Eugenia!
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