Haven't named it yet...
Now breaths draw heavy to my breast
from weight born on my shoulder
The years levy unending tests
Leave scars of growing older
Though I'm not trying to contest--
The winter's not much longer--
My feet plod steady towards their quest
The burden makes me stronger...
jMc aka Cygnus
Slainte, folks.
Cygnus
Textile; cotton; ca. 1850s.
11 hours ago
10 comments:
I so love your poetry, Cygnus.
You write so eloquently. I can feel your words as if I have lived them myself.
Hugs~Felinae~
I like it. :-)
Hugs,
Ashley
Yeah, I'm feeling my age today too. *sigh*
Thank you very much, Lady Felinae.
it is the true desire of all artists, poets especially, to call to the reader's mind a very personal experience-- while keeping the words universal enough to talk to many different persons...
Thank you for reading my poems, M'Lady Felinae...
Ashley--
The getting stronger or the burden causing thus?
Debra--
Here was I thought it the humidity... lol!
Well, might still blame that. ha!
Thanks for the visit!
This is heart achingly beautiful and it really echoes what I have been feeling lately...I am too damn young to get old! And my body reminds me that I am not 20 anymore when I do something like climbing on the roof to clean a branch off, I just can't scamper up that ladder the way that I used to!
Peace - Rene
Well writ, Sir.
Shade and Sweetwater,
K
No need, Lady Rocks...
If you but hold the ladder, I'll get that pesky twig off yeroof...
Thanks for the comments on the imagery, Lady Rene.
Peace, Princess.
[Bows Accordingly, Swan does...]
Thank you, M'Lady Kyddryn...
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