Turfcutter
FinsburyParkCarrots
Posts: 12,223
I trudge through deep bog:
peatwater ditchsplash boots stomp
through floodblack turfspoil.
Dropsheet deathchill winds
roar through halfempty plastic
turfbag famine mouths.
Bent in my oilskins,
Seasalt lashing my red face,
I work through the storm.
There will be enough.
I will fill my barn with turf.
Let rains do their worst.
peatwater ditchsplash boots stomp
through floodblack turfspoil.
Dropsheet deathchill winds
roar through halfempty plastic
turfbag famine mouths.
Bent in my oilskins,
Seasalt lashing my red face,
I work through the storm.
There will be enough.
I will fill my barn with turf.
Let rains do their worst.
Post edited by Unknown User on
0
Comments
EV: Honolulu-4/21 & 4/22/07 [Kokua]. Detroit-6/26/11.
and counsel in a deadly confidence
Move the aged Gloucester to rage
Against his eldest, Edgar. Evidence
concocted, letters forged, fool a man
who would be dupe to cunning. Yet a net
of lies, however thickly woven, can
beneath a well shone light prove hollow yet.
Where hearts have sight and lies are shone to flames
A liar's secret plottings can be seen
and heard to scream those poor defamed names
that would be whispered, beyond their screen
of dark conspiracy. No ploy, no plan
Will grow on lies that blight another man.
keep em coming fins.