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The Early Vagabond
In the not so distant future
from a past not far away
where the "twain" does meet and greet the early dawn;
and the "well at purse" can do no worse
but fetch a castle high;
with his minions outside shivering on the lawn,
hence greet the early vagabond.
Back then the primitive did hail
we've not flagged too far since
obligated and elated either way;
but you tell me if you'd agree
if we'd have half a chance
with his minions outside hovering through the grey;
the early vagabond has finally learned to pray.
My vision blurs my eyes grow tired
and we haven't much light left,
fire at will or let your eyes be still with love,
we're not impressed if that's your best,
guess it's best to be the breeze
with his minions all circling high above;
early vagabonds had spirits like the dove.
About This Poem
Style/Type: Free verse
Review Request Direction:
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
Candlewitch
13 years 7 months ago
Hello,
Your title drew me in and your gentle rhyming and structure held my interest. I liked these lines best:
with his minions outside hovering through the grey;
the early vagabond has finally learned to pray.
My vision blurs my eyes grow tired
and we haven't much light left,
always, Cat
docmaverick
13 years 7 months ago
Thank-you, Cat....
...for your very generous remarks.
sincerely,
doc.