Personal Kharybdis
It is autumn and the long days of summer sun
Have slipped through my fingers as so much sand
Nary a speck of time remains and I am done
Seeking what I am not sure in this sleeping land
What thoughts I have had passed on the breeze
And now empty of thought but still full of hope
That still there may be upon which to seize
Something to do giving meaning purpose and scope
Before me lies a cold and driven sea calling
While behind falls bountiful harvest beckons
The sea tempts with out inkling what is befalling
While the harvest only in cold numbers reckons
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.