Poems
Poems of Antiquity
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As winter weaves its woeful web
and chilling colds caress my child,
I feel forlorn, forgot, foreclosed,
the thought of tears, tested, trialed.
(Taken away, adrift, alone)
in death, denied; my dear drawn up
to heaven in health, hale, hearty
yet reaped, not ready. Now the rite
of passage to places perhaps pretty
(unending, unbending, undying, untying)
the knot, knowing, knees kneel to pray
sought salvation, sun shines on son,
burning beams bite, blemish my boy
darkness is death, and dead is done.