The reaping

It's the reaping of corn I fear,
billowing hills of snow no more,
the taste, the touch, all gone
in the blink of a day,
no see you, nor here before
to worry or die for,
just the blank silence
of the darkest hour
and the slow wake of midnight.




Poetry by Bob
Read 506 times
Written on 2008-12-29 at 00:38

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Zoya Zaidi
'The blank silence of the darkest hour'
can be most distressing
'The slow wake of the midnight'
can be really depressing

As always, dear Ben, you evoke such thoughts in my mind, such feelings in my heart, by your unparraled poetry.
(((Hugs)))
Happy New Year!
Love,
Zoya
2008-12-29



I reaped corny ears
plucked eyes of corny
juice, hence I love corn.
2008-12-29