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The Wake

The Wake

The white ship slides serene, wind-blown,

heedless of its human burthen

while laying wakes but swiftly flown.

 

Mile-on-mile the dance of heathen

sunbursts play on flashing waters

pretty as maids, or bonds that weaken

 

as the leaving fades. The snows that fought us

in winters past, tall drifts in proud array,

melt clear in spring before our youngest daugh...

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ancientfearsleavingthundertrace

Trace

entry picture

Take me away,
far from nuances of life,
far away through different times,
different truths, different minds,
hiding the dust, stretching our hands
closer to our dead, misguided breed.
Take me away from these wild,
lost in a crash, elevated rivers,
green tables, empty crowds,
part of the glory still lingers,
through laughter and torrent
it will never melt down.
Feel the emptiness as а p...

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love poetrypoetrytracewritingwriting poetry

Time

Time

Time lies like a guardian angel,

lost in a past

that shall leave a trace,

safe within the pleats

of this life's fabric.

Look and remember

a white poppy's petal

that brushes gentle as night

across our peaceful faces

with silken care.

 

Chris Hubbard

2018

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