Money doesn’t talk, it swears
Bob Dylan



Stern voices roll dark watery ways

Stern voices roll in watery ways
longing for vivid eyes.
Infant ice that breaks the waves
where winds no longer hear
what winter has to say,
will not pray.

Cold echo remnants hit the rocks
with old world news and rumors
of war talks
cast across the sandy beach
where all hope is lost
in a broken shell.




Words by Bob
Read 1217 times
Written on 2007-02-08 at 19:50

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Christian Lanciai The PoetBay support member heart!
An excellent poem to the point.
2007-02-08


Rob Graber
Fine final couplets in a neat poem, Bob!
PS: Line 3 wants "breaks," line 4, "beg."
2007-02-08