Lonely lover,
Queen of sorrow,
Cursed to hover
Till the morrow,
Stars above her
Slyly borrow
Her bright lament,
While ebbing tide
And rolling flow
Her will abide
And mercy know
As light years stride
And, lapping, go
Just as they went
For eons long
Before a time
When her sweet song
Did brightly chime
No right from wrong
Could poem rhyme
Nor love be lent
To unborn hearts
Yet to wonder
What love departs
Midnight thunder
And play their parts
Basking under
Her bright lament.
©JWJ2022
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The Perpetual Array
PoesíaIt's just some poems I wrote to help me make sense out of what, at times, feels senseless. They don't all rhyme but there was a reason for every one of them. I hope at least someone can make some sense out of this humble collection, which will und...
