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  • What Then?



    What Then?​​​​​​


    lovers, born on day
    of pied repentance,
    never knew if chance
    forsook their fate or
    fancy mused her way
    into the mix

    where once betwixt
    prevenient fury, ages
    passed with notches on
    the rind, no ground or
    gritted teeth could
    masticate a mend

    it had to end, if
    not by choice
    then sure by chance

    loose ends abounded

  • #2
    Hope you are all well poet friends. Working with limited internet capability at the moment. Thinking of you often in these days.

    Comment


    • #3
      Missed you Paula. Really enjoyed the descriptive word choices.

      Comment


    • #4
      Weather together or apart, storm clouds will always mess with the internet.

      Comment


    • #5
      Hello RhymeLovingWriter, What then, indeed, fate and fancy to sure the chance in this uniquely exquisite verse, Most published works of late would not compare to this passage of poetic excellence, I jest you not. An intricate wonder woven with class. Fond regards, Tony.

      Comment


      • RhymeLovingWriter
        RhymeLovingWriter commented
        Editing a comment
        Well now, Tony, that makes me feel mighty fine indeed. Thank you. Perhaps I have a future at this yet.

    • #6
      This is my favourite poem of yours.

      Such we'll crafted stanzas, especially the second one!

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    • #7
      This is truly one of your best!

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      • RhymeLovingWriter
        RhymeLovingWriter commented
        Editing a comment
        Thanks lunar glide. I'm happy you found it so. I'm still learning and am happy to think my writing is moving in a good direction.
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