Bear in mind that poetry is only a hobby for me, so if this reads like crap, well, such is the nature of things.
PIQUANCY
Ah, forsooth! Such a lovely aspect of
contention, whose raven tresses, so tightly
bound, induce dismayed longing and
inchoate pangs of remembered despair in the
dark hearts of men.
For such austere majesty, untrammeled and
unscarred through honest travail, should
hinder the voice of any subtle nightingale,
it’s siren call lost in a void of honest speculation.
Indomitable poise, so pure in face and form,
conceals a heart abiding in abysmal sorrow,
from whence peals of laughter once rang,
silenced forevermore at the touch of a false kiss.
By Brad M
Baradakas' Prose
Moderators: deer of the dawn, Furls Fire
Baradakas' Prose
"Fortunate circumstances do not equate to high ideals."
"Mostly muffins sir."- My answer in response to the question posed by the officer, "Son, do you have anything on you I should know about?"
His response: "Holy $&!^. He's not kidding! Look at all these muffins!"
"Mostly muffins sir."- My answer in response to the question posed by the officer, "Son, do you have anything on you I should know about?"
His response: "Holy $&!^. He's not kidding! Look at all these muffins!"
