I Like To Write Poetry
[i] CREEPING IVY[/i]
My mind is not a roller coaster,
nor is it a waterfall.
My mind is not an
erratic swarm of bees
that flit by in an instant
with a harsh din
and an itching,
burning sensation when they land...
IF they land.
My thoughts are not
a field of early spring flowers -
chaotic at first
but destined to blossom
into some spectacular sight;
no that would be too beautiful for me.
And my thoughts are not
an untrodden field
of virgin snow,
with their soon-to-be origins
easily discernable...
My mind is the Earth,
and my thoughts an asteroid -
misshapen and lonesome,
and fatefully hurling itself
in a bold and deadly fashion
towards that doomed rock...
May God have mercy.
[i] - Copyright Timothy Michael McNeil, 2016[/i]
My mind is not a roller coaster,
nor is it a waterfall.
My mind is not an
erratic swarm of bees
that flit by in an instant
with a harsh din
and an itching,
burning sensation when they land...
IF they land.
My thoughts are not
a field of early spring flowers -
chaotic at first
but destined to blossom
into some spectacular sight;
no that would be too beautiful for me.
And my thoughts are not
an untrodden field
of virgin snow,
with their soon-to-be origins
easily discernable...
My mind is the Earth,
and my thoughts an asteroid -
misshapen and lonesome,
and fatefully hurling itself
in a bold and deadly fashion
towards that doomed rock...
May God have mercy.
[i] - Copyright Timothy Michael McNeil, 2016[/i]