Monday, June 01, 2009

A poem for Alana Morgan

Napping

Alone within a vision of gathered thought,
Letters idled formed words I loosely sought.
Alert to grainy images of future topic I sat,
Nurtured upon veils of soldered muse hat.

Austere auspice formed upon cracked lips,
Joy leapt sinking down a rising low sound,
Moistened again glad vibrations seeped clips
Over trials of disparate need unfound and bound.

Rituals began among the tracks in the eye’s mind,
Gaining footholds of chancy utterance laid waste,
Allowing victory to grovel toward its slow haste
Nodding head on chest was the glorious find.

Robert Dodson
June 1, 2009

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