Treasure Island

Mark Heathcote

(22/03/66 / Manchester)

Comforts in the dark


Mysterious poems endless… words
Wisteria - windings on my mind.
The millponds ripple silently heard:
Distils conspires with every rhyme.

Every touch every nerve trembling.
It's all leading to an end:
Let's not pretend the gifts I'm learning
Shall, in these rivers endlessly wend.

Every footfall beat, is a beating heart.
Running backwards to the start…
Oh all my passions… when did we depart
To find our only, comforts in the dark.

Isn't the white page not yet smudged?
The best of all conceived, never written
Life and love they're always fudged…
The end of our yarn is that the vision.

Mysterious poems endless… words
Wisteria - windings on my mind.
The millponds ripple silently heard:
Distils conspires with my every nerve
In times of darkness: to fly like a bird.

Submitted: Friday, August 22, 2014

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  • Terry Craddock (8/22/2014 8:15:00 PM)

    You had me with the beauty of the first stanza

    Mysterious poems endless… words
    Wisteria - windings on my mind.
    The millponds ripple silently heard:
    Distils conspires with every rhyme.

    I also have spent much time thinking these thoughts, and I loved the last stanza twist, with the extra line 'In times of darkness: to fly like a bird.' now I do not wait for darkness I fly anyway, in darkness or in light :) 10+

    Isn't the white page not yet smudged?
    The best of all conceived, never written yes this is truth and mystery (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

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