Please do not argue
With the rigors of your sentence
The chiming bells
That call you to your chamber
Are but a simple reminder
Of the paradigm of sins
That you yourself created
In some dim and distant version of the past
Among the long seeded rose beds of your memory
Among the wheat fields
Gently swaying to the sound
Of a lost and distant morning
Caught among the fallen leaves
Of the lovers ritual
Welcome!
The poems in this beautifully bound book are a result of over twenty years of observations. Observations of the world around us and on the telecommunications network. All of the hate, love, heroism, disasters, and those who help.
Beautif
This book represents a thirty-day period of my poetry journal. Each poem addresses
the dominant thoughts occupying my mind during the early morning hours of a given
day.
A people’s heart can be found in their poetic words. In history men and women have stood firmly upon their soapboxes and street corners, rallying the deepest beliefs of people to rise up and be heard. The poetrypages.com has offered that voice a new
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