I have come of age
I'm told trial has fled from cage
It will come to me at the time of dawn
It will get to me at the time of dusk
At the moment the world is sleeping
At the instance the world is changing
It will touch me with a swift tickle
Like the wind abrupt and fickle
It will brush my senses in a brisk
Like a scent subtle as the mist
Should I get me a place to hide?
Or why not get me the grit to bide?
Your place is near me in the family tree
Yet you are distant from me in reality
Have you a slight idea?
That fire turns to ice
When the pain is close to nigh
And I have paid a price that high
That it will be worth nothing at all
To give myself to you, at beck and call
Have you a slight doubt?
That when trial afflicts me
You shall surely forsake me
And I shall not despire
For I know who i need is always there
Trial is waiting in the wings
To wring my heart with a twinge
Should I get me a place to hide?
Or why not get me the grit to bide?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
trial is waiting in the wings, good writing, thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.