A Question Poem by Stan Petrovich

A Question



Do your tiny hands
Reveal freeflying thoughts,
Or better, are you intrigued
By the stumbling block dividing naughts?

It s not possible to conceal
An admiration impossibly,
Mathematically, real:
That lore is catlike in ferocity.

Doe-eyed, implacable, studious,
Said being is beautiful of mind;
Milton's honesty, old, then dutiful,
No brokenness can be so kind.

Quaked, then towered, forsaking
Friendship's throne for tears,
A humble dosser is partaking
Of an institution asymbolic of the years.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Tony Karas 11 December 2012

Another truly awesome write. I wish this thing would alow me to enter ratings. This is a 10 for sure.

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