Poem -
Soft Rain
At the very heart of you
It rains,
not hard rain
But unusually
Soft
My Lord please,
Clear his
misted sight
so he might see
How truly
Weak he is
No Soldier
Or
Grand mediviel
Knight
Just
An addicted
wicked jester
who has no
Problem
Stealing
from
the Lady
Of the Kingdom
The rain
are drops
Of failure
Soft
As the spirit
it holds
Eventually
Though
It will become
hail
Much like
The conscience
He
Has
Created
Passed out
In a low budget
Studio
He rented
With no gold
Albums
Coming
His
Way.....
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Comments
Reflective. Had a real sense to it. Yes, I do believe I know where you were going with this one. Enjoyed it. Peace Greg
Thank u fish. Yeah I was going there 😇
wonderful poem
What a wicked Jester he is! To steal from the Lady of the Kingdom. Jesters are over the top kind of people ... clowns if you like... and nobody ever sees the real clowns beneath all the bright and cheery gunk. If anyone ever cleared away that huge painted smile they would be shocked at what lies beneath the layers. So sad, I think, that this jester has to be this way. The Lady of the Kingdom will not stick around and her kindness will be sorely missed by all. It is all very, very sad.
Wow! Your poem here has got me thinking deeply, Greg! That must be because it really got to me. Thanks for sharing this, Greg. Wish I could shower it with stars...alas, there are only 5 to give ...but really theres tons of stars i give this! Love this write Greg x