A Poet Complains Poem by John Thorkild Ellison
A Poet Complains
Leaves gash the ground with wounds of colour
Where the lonely eagles cry,
Frost binds the earth with straps of iron
And the bright wind shakes the sky;
I've listened to the Faery Folk
And drunk their magic brew,
I've spoken to men and angels
And the dark Satanic crew,
But no-one showed me mercy
By the side of the bitter sea
When Jesus wept and Moses moaned
And they nailed me to the Tree.
there is no words for me........ a great write....... my salutations and knee bent down to pray......... thank you for your kind sharing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/23/2024 11:29:18 AM # 1.0.0.1119
a true poetic complaint i must say...beautiful//