I
Ice
Guest
The Poetry of History
Perusing the pasts
Encompassing events
Occasionally to rest
In poetrys tent
Whiffs of grapeshot
Still ring in the ear
As poet takes hold
Deep feeling so near
'Lo, 'tis autumn'
Whitman blood red
Speaks ghastly words
'The only son is dead'
'O Captain my Captain!'
Triumph tragedy burn
Poet heals nation
Upon writers lectern
Brooke requiems Soldier
Now nameless dead men
In foreign field "that is
forever England"
Sassoon wails out
Owen explains
Senseless destruction
Amidst Flanders plain
Occassionally the light
O'er ceaseless conflict
Beams upon poet
Forcing view shift
Colossus doth rise
In Lazarus eyes
'cries she With silent lips'
Imprisoned lightning realized
Patton was poet
And Lincoln too!
Like I, not good
Yet new point of view
Reading dry tomes
Tasteless ages digest
Flashes of poetry
Spicing its quest.
Perusing the pasts
Encompassing events
Occasionally to rest
In poetrys tent
Whiffs of grapeshot
Still ring in the ear
As poet takes hold
Deep feeling so near
'Lo, 'tis autumn'
Whitman blood red
Speaks ghastly words
'The only son is dead'
'O Captain my Captain!'
Triumph tragedy burn
Poet heals nation
Upon writers lectern
Brooke requiems Soldier
Now nameless dead men
In foreign field "that is
forever England"
Sassoon wails out
Owen explains
Senseless destruction
Amidst Flanders plain
Occassionally the light
O'er ceaseless conflict
Beams upon poet
Forcing view shift
Colossus doth rise
In Lazarus eyes
'cries she With silent lips'
Imprisoned lightning realized
Patton was poet
And Lincoln too!
Like I, not good
Yet new point of view
Reading dry tomes
Tasteless ages digest
Flashes of poetry
Spicing its quest.