Fruits of Labour
Date: Saturday, 4th June 2011 @ 04:12:45 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry


Contributed By: Natkingcole

I have known, through withered groves of years,
Many a ghost of joy, sadness and despair.
Now, like a newborn wrapped in kind thoughts
And busy needs, I am at rest and humbled by
My growing life.....

Lambs and Calves and Kits reflect the years I am
Upon this most mysterious earth, yet, I feel as if,
Beyond my young years, that I am as old as the
Flint used to strike the first spark of flame in a
Dark cave.....

And now, though time seems infinite and finite,
I am in tune with nature. With the pull of gravity
On the tides, I am in tune. With the heat of an
Idle ray of sunlight upon a grey, cracked stone
.....In tune.

Yet, summer bears much that I don't understand,
But, like a student of understanding, I wish to.
Yes, the unknown breeds within me a quiet discontent,
And dust settles, wild and firm, on those who succumb
To the whimsy of ignorance.....

A breeze, splintered by blades of dark green grass,
Settles upon my paralysed mind and urges it to storm
The fortress of all that is mysterious and hermit in this
Wild world and secure a place on it's throne. Throne,
Yes, to conquer the unknown.....

Golden wheat whistles with the wind. Wind,
Given by the forces which govern this ever
Changing plethora of seasons, time and life.
Wells, of water, spirit and secrecy, lie deep
Within the earth's core.....

And I will dig, Mark me well, I will dig!
Those fruits of labour.....

This poem is Copyright © Natkingcole



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