Of a soul-fire which could not kill
Its spirit... but then there's the meadowlarks
Who don't get burnt, yet still
Wing aloft into the same sky,
Both birds finding their own way to fly...
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Random Rhymes From An Expat Living A Long Way From Home
Dear Reader
Thank you for stopping by .... It has been 15 years since the start of this poetry blog .... Over time, I developed a few rules for posting: (1) The verses should not be too abstract, or long; (2) They must rhyme, and (3) Need to write at least twenty per month .... So, yes, the quality varies (sigh), but I've stuck to it and have by now accumulated over 3,800 entries .... I do not write for recognition or money, rather, for some other reason I guess ... Best luck & health to you -- JPN
Image by Mark Harm Niemeyer
Far Out (By Philip Larkin)
Beyond the bright cartoons
Are darker spaces where
Small cloudy nests of stars
Seem to float on the air.
These have no proper names:
Men out alone at night
Never look up at them
For guidance or delight.
For such evasive dust
Can make so little clear:
Much less is known than not,
More far than near.
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About Me
"a soul-fire which could not kill its spirit.."
ReplyDeleteWow...that's a powerful line...
Yes we all must find our own way to fly. I once watched a lark soar so high it did indeed appear to disappear into the heavens,to get so close to the sun as if to burn, only to come soaring down in joyful song to its mate hidden safely in her grassy nest. A true spectacle to behold.
ReplyDelete