- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Victory
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flowing over the hills of gold
a blue tide carries the bird of white
neither too young nor too old
blessed with a story untold
he flies carelessly into the night
hills fall into a golden plain
as wings lift spirits higher still
to find the gentle rain
of loving tears again
the white bird sets to with a will
"despair not into lowest pride"
sounds out the high voice of reason
"for your soul it would hide
and would constantly bide,
and make ill upon every season."
a soul flares up in spite
and the white bird hastens away
for the bark is the bite
for the deed that is right
and wrong has no reason to stay.
- COMMENTS
LuciousBi-Writes4Uover 18 years agoas always...
your poems are intriguingly different and thought provoking... you stand alone in a crowded see friend!
Angelineover 18 years agoI like the way you've made rhyme work in this poem. I don't recognize the quote--is it something you wrote or are you quoting someone else? You might want to think about breaking the lines differently so the quote stands out more. Seemed to me like it needs be more set off from the lines before and after it.
Thanks for the read. :)
--Angeline
