TIME TO WRITE
Look carefully Wide eyes,I cry.
For I can see poetry,
Floating, Yearning,
To be.
In the depths,
Of the earth,
Floating seemlessly,
Silently.
Looking up,
I see.
Not the sea,
But the waves of clouds,
Carefully coalescing drifting.
Sighing crying,
Hape hazardly.
Stars shining through,
The midnight sky.
Pure unadulterated poetry,
For my eyes.
The cold wind blows,
Awaiting warmer times.
The writing on the wall,
Looking for the rhymes.
Sleeping, Waking through,
For that is poetry too.
Poetry never really dies,
It hungers to be,
Kept alive,
Read.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
Read 28 times
Written on 2024-10-12 at 12:17
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