well while i'm on the subject of the blind.... not very good representation of the good thought that I had for a poem sigh oh well
of heros and villians paired.
He tells us of secrets
not to be shared.
They call him Old One Eye
though none does he have.
He sits on his stool
feet resting on stave.
No one knows when he came
or where he was born.
But no one can question
that face so forlorn.
He comes everyday
to sit by the lake.
He tells such strange tales
though none think are fake.
You wonder sometimes
why he's never wry.
He's happy to spread the lore
of good ol' One Eye
Poetry by Mary
Read 836 times
Written on 2006-02-25 at 03:55
Tags Old One Eye
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Old One Eye
He tells us storysof heros and villians paired.
He tells us of secrets
not to be shared.
They call him Old One Eye
though none does he have.
He sits on his stool
feet resting on stave.
No one knows when he came
or where he was born.
But no one can question
that face so forlorn.
He comes everyday
to sit by the lake.
He tells such strange tales
though none think are fake.
You wonder sometimes
why he's never wry.
He's happy to spread the lore
of good ol' One Eye
Poetry by Mary
Read 836 times
Written on 2006-02-25 at 03:55
Tags Old One Eye
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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