A Reaching After Dawn

Reads: 335  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 3

Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

From the Booksie Circle, with thanks to my friends who inspire me.

His face was a study of sorrow,
Her's the light by which it was rendered,
His was the fight that he could not win,
Her's was the enemy to whom he surrendered;

His was the soul of sacred truth,
Her's the bold-faced lie of youth,
His was the failing of the common man,
Her's was the fire of a heated brand,

He tried to catch a star
Within his trembling grip,
But beholding the fury in her heart,
His hold began to slip;

He was not meant to hold her back,
To drag her down to the ground,
For he was onyl a man, alas,
And she a vision of light and sound--

His is the sound of rain on pavement,
And her's the fluttering of wings,
His is the grief of a dream now lost,
A vision for which his heart did sing.


Submitted: December 01, 2011

© Copyright 2023 Thomas Black. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:



Wow, this is beautiful. Very well done. :) Sherry

Thu, December 8th, 2011 3:20pm


Thank you Sherry

Thu, December 8th, 2011 3:15pm


I think this is a great poem, wonderful flow, effortless rhyming, filled with imagery and emotion, loss and pain. Big "LIKE"

Mon, January 9th, 2012 4:19am


Thanks Bob.

Mon, January 9th, 2012 4:46am

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