Freedom of Rock
if only I were much harder,
wouldn't that just do!
Shock X whatever it takes?
or a realisation that that
curling blood softness is not
so wish for cold ocean water,
seizing every body print and crevice,
and so heavy to lift,
and not good company for any
old stone thrower,
trying to make them skim or splash!
as big as the Budicka Rock,
green, dark and ragged,
and ever ready for all the
waves, no matter how many,
to crash on my raised body,
plant me deep,
don't let me sleep,
let me solidify in eternities
darkness, with cold starry fish
and the heaviest hardest eyes,
to vouch, that I have done your bidding...
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Comments about this poem (Freedom of Rock by GRANT FRASER )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
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