CeSeScotkin
New member
- Jul 28, 2008
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POEMS
by C.S. Scotkin
Poems are new love in the night
or muted cries of children’s fright.
Golden eagles soaring light.
Or weakness overcoming might.
A poem is summer heat that wilts
or winter freeze when axis tilts.
And green grass shacks built up on stilts,
or dashing knights with hands on hilts.
A poem’s emotion boiled down
a broken heart worn like a crown
or pathos worthy of a clown.
The glory of a wedding gown.
Our poems which are the stuff of life
Recall our triumphs, moaning strife
with interpretation, rife
soft as down, our sharpest knife.
by C.S. Scotkin
Poems are new love in the night
or muted cries of children’s fright.
Golden eagles soaring light.
Or weakness overcoming might.
A poem is summer heat that wilts
or winter freeze when axis tilts.
And green grass shacks built up on stilts,
or dashing knights with hands on hilts.
A poem’s emotion boiled down
a broken heart worn like a crown
or pathos worthy of a clown.
The glory of a wedding gown.
Our poems which are the stuff of life
Recall our triumphs, moaning strife
with interpretation, rife
soft as down, our sharpest knife.