Repentance of Time



Repentance of Time
My obsession is my passion for the words I do seek.
In glaring colors highlighted in orange and green.
Rashly brazen in denial of conscious thought.
For the consonants of all things now taught.

Madness has crept upon my pen and died within my soul.
Leaves forever rustle in the wind, as my spirit grows old within.
While time renders my words onto the deafening ears of naives.
As my soul lives in atonement bounded to an empty unmarked grave.

Titans of poetry ride the ebbs of walking waves upon demise.
The sunset's lowers through the hearts of true poets still alive.
As echoes of death from Scottish graves, whisper their names.
Calling works of Sir Walter Scott and Robert Burns known fame.

Rest now upon my words as I tire forevermore.
Never to pen another word, which I so dearly, adore.
To ride within the talking of winds and listen to the poets of time.
While in the glory of words written by those perfect in flow and rhyme.

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Submitted on July 05, 2016

Modified on March 18, 2023

52 sec read
5

Quick analysis:

Scheme AXXBB XXCX CXCX DDAA
Closest metre Iambic heptameter
Characters 938
Words 173
Stanzas 4
Stanza Lengths 5, 4, 4, 4

Norman Wilson

IntroductionForgotten are the times the tick of a clock once chimed sobering sounds that caressed my hearts nightly dreams. As I awaken to the touch of light that burns upon a candles wick flickering my words for all to see. This drives my thoughts through the darkest of nights of loneliness that renders my quill upon parchment with ink that dances to minds and souls.Now I hear the screeching of my heart when the blue horizon covers the orb of emptiness.Within the shelter of my mind with little, purpose other than my words that keep me sane. These are my new poems I have written in the quiet of my night, forever wished away in a writer’s pain. As I strive to write that perfect poem that, my soul desperately seeks. Then and only then can my words rest upon a sleep. more…

All Norman Wilson poems | Norman Wilson Books

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