Two juvenile poets roam lonelily
-from a distant land of fraternity-
Two spirits off an awakening -
Two roamers on a wooden boat,
In times full of despairing
With an infinite oath -
To a desolate shore with seas,
Blue as drops of the sorrow
And with life, green as romance
Without the waves of morrow.
Losing rhymes, easing minds
As silence speaks with disguise -
Where freedom but a blur
Like the gulls in the night
Where wisdom, a loner,
A drunkard without a sight.
Writing –yet no word there
No torch to light the sphere-
Is living in a shadow, under
A tree in a lonely grave -
“Yet men are the loneliest
Since the invention of solemnity,”
The two hearts at a time.
-It is when breeze makes a rhyme
on a tiny piece of Eternity-
And the tiniest but the sweetest
Is when there is a shared poetry.
© Copyright 2016 Old Sea. All rights reserved.
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