Poetry Form: Sonnet
I am not young, my eyes they do grow old
I invite twelve friends -- partake my last Sup:
Let`s fight over my writings when I am cold
A life support machine they hook me up
A journey prepared just to stay alive:
On walls, at home, I hang my precious art --
The age of Christ when he was cricified
Thirty-three minutes I was with no heart
Inside a silver dome chrome-filled starship --
An angel leans over with eyes blue lake;
My chest evidence -- more than just a nip,
Twenty-four hours later, I awake
A year later, I smile at angels
I've been given time -- revisit dale
~
March 04, 2005
~
Note: dale: gaelic - a river that runs between the valley; first name for male or female, as in Dale Gregory (Gregg) Rowe
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Comments: 17
"though I walk through the valley of shadows of death,
I fear no evil."
The only thing I fear is death itself.
Gregg
speedway runnin had to let u know I really like this