Grace
Envy Grace, the foulest beast, who cannot think it so,
Her draping skin of miseries devoid its selfish woe.
We pensive apes, honest mistakes, blessed abominations,
Persist in guilty commonplace, for cursed with contemplation.
Quite remiss as she exists, although she's cumbered foully,
As ignorance is bliss, Our Father's fruit bearing slowly,
Incessantly inquiring, "Whatever is it to be free?"
And so misses her glance in a glass, unaware the foul beast there is she.
T.W. Jolin
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I love this piece
Nicely spoken. I love the use of archaic language. I do not find that in many poets nowadays.
There is a certain power in this piece.
Deborah
Praise, Praised
Thought formed praise from a fellow poet,
Is all I can hope for, that heavenly summit,
Where art as it's own means and ends,
Gives us a minute from life's persisting demands!
Thanks!
insightful
Good insightful read, thanks. raskin
Quite Welcome
Welcome are your kind remarks,
Another poet truely at heart,
Perhaps we too are "Old Dusty Jars,"
Filled with poems, but fashioned from stars!
Thanks!
good
That's pretty good. raskin
great use of language...
oldaspirationsneverdie...7
The style and tone in your language and thought make this piece
very philosophical and beautiful....great flow and choice of words!
The Place of Grace
Grace, is like a mirror or a lake fed by a river. A river of reflection and like water it pours out to cover all of me. I may drown in it or be found in it but all who are thirsty may drink and abound in it. I cannot make grace but it can make me it's transforming path changes my sight, clothes my ugliness makes new my mind to seek it its source. If all my life I should seek it, let its value be known that He whom owns it has brought me back home not empty but full with praises, ripe with maturity and none of myself.
Thank you for you Post please continue your work.
Ansel