Good night

Wilful feathery fears of tomorrow
liquefy at the turning melting point
where I, as it were, wrecks all potential
of a lame and toothless future
plummeting into pools
of poor joint consideration.

I am the wild wily dilly
that scribbles into the weary night
too bold to be daft or stale
too rapt to pale or fold.
I am the shift from cruel tears
into good night dear.




Poetry by Bob
Read 554 times
Written on 2006-01-08 at 23:08

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Zoya Zaidi
"Wilful feathery fears of tomorrow
liquefy at the turning melting point "

Fears that keep us alive, though,
In a very willful life; Again and again,
They crop up here and there, and
Keep at us at bay; Far we cannot go,
Near we dare not come; Fears keep us away, from our dear ones...
(((Hugs for the New Year,Ben))))
love you!
xxx, Zoya
2006-01-09