Errant in the dark, the telltale signs

we saw catapult us fifteen miles

through gulley and field

uproot and cascade, we now deem

a captured eye, a wind-blown scene,

so fresh, so free for all, and yet...


hot-bladed too, a line of fire

in this frenzied, war-torn age

a searing divide, a map, a point

as plain and unbroken as

you, my rock, my hallowed place

here beside nature's sweet clamour.


◄ Fluid

Cold ►


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Patricia and Stefan Wilde

Tue 2nd Feb 2016 12:44

Enjoyed the 'feel' of this one David.P&S. xx

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Mon 1st Feb 2016 18:16

I find a flowing lovely lyricism describing/capturing harsh physical reality or a poignant metaphor of great love, whether religious or human. I admire/applaud the care taken in structure.

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steven jacobson

Mon 1st Feb 2016 00:49

I like the poem. It paints a vivid picture of a war torn event. And breaks freely to focus on God.

Steven Jacobson

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