Tell Papa I want treats, not poetry by Wolfenshire
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Description
Special Notes: Beats me, just felt like trying a hand at poetry. I suppose I could have made it longer but I got bored quick, that and the commercial break was over and could'nt remember what I was thinking by the next commercial break. Did you know there's no poetry category?
[Gone now that fleeting moment unaware]
[By R.L. Wolf]
Neither luminous day at fires edge
Nor endless night of windless rage
Will answer to the boundless dusk
Gone now that fleeting moment unaware
The storm that will not rage
A shout of empty sound
Whisper to the darkened sky
Gone now that fleeting moment unaware
A soundless trumpet
The dying note
All now a light to faded shadow
Gone now that fleeting moment unaware
Stand on hollow ground
Fall against the coming sleep
Furious to that endless dark
Gone now that fleeting moment unaware
Comments (13)
I really like what you've written. Love the dog's expression and the title goes so well with the photo Excellent on all three counts
very good poem and the dog image is super looking
Are you sure Katie wasn't chanelling those lines to you, she seems to have that mesmerizing look in her eyes :) Great shot and poem.
Great look !!!!
WOW, amazing, love it. Superb pic toooooooo. You can tell what is being thought!!!! xx
Adorable capture my friend !!!
Great poem and beautiful dog, outstanding work!
Beautiful piece. For once I'm sorry for the short commercial time. Is that Katie?
Yes, best dog I've ever had, her personality is amazing.
Great shot!
Very good poem and photo!
Puppy!!!! Excellent photo and wonderful poetry! Way to go! Bravo!
Whatever you were thinking, it brings to mind those moments that are gone almost before they begin, that you notice just as they're fading. Echoes of life, the resonance of something special that you may have missed, a fleeting thought you can't get back but that you know would be such a happy thing on which to muse, dreams disappearing as you wake up and figure out where you are ... the unbearable ache and joy of life. Poetic, indeed!
I'm with the pup. It has nothing to do with the poetry just was never my bailiwick.