Blessing Crusts

When day turns inside out
Hours stand on their heads
The wholly undevout
Golds follow their leads

Ourselves all turned about
Axis spinning threads
Each whisper heard to shout
Breaking like glass beads

Splinter into clouds to burst
Deserts drown in hyacinth
Mantelpieces ply a plinth
Blessings raining on the crust



Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 631 times
Written on 2014-03-22 at 07:28

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text


Nabeela Altaf
Love the thought.
2014-03-22