Array
(
[sid] => 126405
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Hymn
[time] => 2006-10-01 10:58:22
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => He starts-
one movement
like the coming of night.
Too much like
familiar etchings
in colors or stone-
giants standing sentry
to this darkness.
To try, no
say attempt
or fail
at this jocund death.
Whence came this traveler?
From the sea (or the womb)
from that lavender field
sewn in opposition.
It whispers
softly, verily-
say with intent.
That shadowed lover-
too often moving-
he stands-no, say defies
that chorus-and sings with them, or him
(as it were)
and moves
softly, with the coming of night.
He starts, verily,
and moves often
as men are wont to do.
Moves, yes, say moves
softly, verily,
like the coming of night.
[comments] => 2
[counter] => 302
[topic] => 43
[informant] => Blu
[notes] =>
[ihome] => 0
[alanguage] => english
[acomm] => 0
[haspoll] => 0
[pollID] => 0
[score] => 15
[ratings] => 3
[editpoem] => 1
[associated] =>
[topicname] => oops
)
If you wish to use any poem for any purpose, please either EMAIL Mick from the sites feedback form, or go to the AUTHOR'S site and EMAIL the author for permission. If you Email Mick for permission on any poem that is not his personal works, he will endeavor to contact the author on your behalf. This poem comes from Your Poetry Dot Com https://www.your-poetry.com/ The URL for this poem is: https://www.your-poetry.com/route.php?page=poetry/PoemDetail&story_id=126405 |