Treasure Island

Edgar Rendon Eslit

(August 21,1971 / Iligan City)

Bidfair


Seems a cataract roars
Dusk glimpses adherent lures
Breath air no more
Bohemian scents anchor
Bidfair, nature conjures

Violent rays acquaint maladies
Man's abode demises
Seas and rivers gone helpless
Who cares? All, no one dares
Bidfair, besets God's calamities

Hundred-fold petitions unheard
Blind, deaf and mute all apprehended
Cowardice prevails, truth rejected
Men, though in throne most fainted
Bidfair, mortal-sweet long dead

Aforesaid facts best solution begged
Fear, points lo' turned plague
Thorn entombs, indeed imbued
Off to life yet no worth
Here, there and elsewhere-bidfair?

Submitted: Friday, August 17, 2007
Edited: Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Related Poems


Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Bidfair by Edgar Rendon Eslit )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. The Road is Full of Thorn,, Aftab Alam
  2. Do accept, hasmukh amathalal
  3. A Bit On The Side, Rod Morris
  4. Some Things Should Not Have Been, Anita Khelawan
  5. Let not this earth be divided, gajanan mishra
  6. With situation, hasmukh amathalal
  7. Misery Loves Company, Bill Cantrell
  8. Hot Summer Tanka, Toshie Nohara
  9. No need to ask, gajanan mishra
  10. Truth, Tony Adah

Poem of the Day

poet Henry David Thoreau

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read,
'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large
Down in the meadow, where is richer feed,
And will not mind to hit their proper targe.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]