Sunday, 29 August 2010

Mystic Rhythms ~ 'This Son's Tears'

Poetry Of Sorts
~ This Sun's Tears ~

The laden brush
This paint
Splashes sparkling
Like the sun's tears

This son fears
No splash at all
No faint return
Just swallowing

The walls of Paris
Witness all
My chromic states
And wallowing

In years to come
Will echoes
Of my steps fill
My son's ears

© 2010
Sab Will / Paris Set Me Free ~ Contact me directly for readings, interviews, etc.

1 comment:

  1. Dug around a bit and found where your poetry was hiding...this is the rhyming at the ends of stanzas one and four, and two and three, and the phrase "chromic states" is such a cool twist on the usual "chronic states" we hear about, and also great is the use of sun/son/son. Anyway, excuse the mile-long sentence, and keep writing. : )



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