Poetry – Page 78 – A (wise) man of two faces

Fabricated

Song and stories
of old glories:
fairy tales
or just history?

Castles for coffee
accent ottoman isles
with treasured chests
hiding secret booty.

I would love bacon
or silver dollar pancakes
with maple syrup…
But many mornings I can
barely get to work on time.

Catching
up on my sleep
should hit me like a bed
and not like a runaway train
instead.

It stretched out before her
showing her the way:
a wide expanse of tomorrow
and small thoughts of yesterday.

– photograph featuring weakmeatstrongeat

But by the Grace of God,
we lived to see this day:
to view each and every soul
as precious in its own way.

Yes, I am.

It howled and it rained,
the storm untamed
bore down on the people
who sat ‘neath the steeple
and whisperer His name.

I’m swollen, turgid
and all these fierce emotions
shake the very room

“You promised,” he whispered
into a night devoid of stars.
You promised. He shivered
beside the freeway of whistling cars.

“You promised,” he accused
as tears welled up in his eyes.
“You promised,” he sobbed
with no one to hold him as he cried.

You promised. He despaired
when he gave up the fight.
You promised. He surrendered
himself up to the night.

“You promised,” he dreamed
and woke to find her by his side.