Congeal

by

Thomas Granger

Deserts less the camels, storm-clouds less the wind
Religion without hypocrites, Love that's never sinned
Illusion, whereas meaning has no relevance in word
Glued together, tattered seams, a poison still uncured

The freezing takes the tingle, the heater has grown cold
The healing goes on longer, tarnished feelings, filled with gold
Spilling tiny morsels onto that I can't renounce
Leaves me in my own world, where my bruised emotion counts

So eager to do more of this, your life's only portrayal
Devote yourself to something nothing ever will entail
Collect the tiny teardrops that congeal to gaseous form
and blow of with tomorrow where the sunshine might be warm

As I travel in this evening, I come back to yesterday
Which causes me to drift off to the place I long to stay
To drown those dreadful memories that predicament my pain
Silencing the ringing of the music in my brain

Still I don't beguile my feelings in this matter, as of yet
My life might seem different but I seldom can forget
The last remaining notion will remain my right to share
If this does not show you anything, it should show you I care

NEXT?
Why don't you look at Two Sorts Of Spiritual People
by: Francis Duggan
from: Wonthaggi, Victoria, Australia

To visit all of Thomas Granger's poems, click HERE

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