Daniel Nairn Poems

Though writer I may be,
A love and passion, I agree;
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Thine eyes shun mine; for shamed
Thou art of darkest sin in me.
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Catharsis brings relief
They say. The feelings come, are purged
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4 lines, iambically,
3 feet, then 4, then 4 and 3
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When can I speak my heart?
For many days I've wandered mute.
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Eight hours of work each day,
Eight hours spent cutting grass and weeds,
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In dying, brought me life,
In living, gave eternal hope;
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Look! Sun sets o'er th'mounts!
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Your songs run in my mind
To torment inability
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'Twas God and I'n a room
When I was brok'n he fixed me then;
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