A call for help heeded not
Poetic peace be with
Strangled by this heavy yoke
Fashioned on the stith
Staggering with this load I pull
This giant monolith
Poetic peace without,
This load is not a myth
His daughter’s virtue still intact
Though we laid down in the frith
Poetic peace ne’er be mine
Be damned this old blacksmith
© 2011 Michael Yost
You have such a way with your words…love it!
Thank you very much!
Michael – dark, otherwordly, yet timeless. What a picture you present! Amy
Thanks Amy. Really liked The Stroll.
😦 how sad!!!
Mess with my daughter will ya? I’ll show you! etc etc etc smiles
A dad is a dad is a dad!! Nice work … 🙂
Yes we are!