High Summit Poem by Kelly Vinal
High Summit
Sing we for the finest times,
For memories of tree-lined hills –
O’er fields lay strewn of flowers gold,
Ensconced, we are composed.
Cannonades of thunder rolling
From the harbinger to be –
Sing we for forgotten promise
In the chorus of the sea.
Lay we bare to face the mountain,
And our faith is probably
Between the shattered countryside
And immortality.
Once you were the Tragic Poet,
Plunged in depths of travesty,
Plunged in sanguine dreams unspoken –
Paved in stones of misery.
Sing we for the season’s harvest:
Augustus flames on Antony –
A chorus to Apollo’s glory
Echoes soft eternally.
You stood brave where I stand broken,
The pumice roads intone:
A shadow of the angry mountain –
Montis alt, I’m coming home.
This is simply the best, Kelly. The gentle rhymes and sweet rhythms make a music of your images. The endeing is simply perfect. Raynette
I like this poem a lot. So emotional and enjoyable to the end. I'll be reading more of yours :) KK
There are a few sceptics who bang on their pulpits, of the death of the rhyme! They seem awfully quiet, at present! Loved it, Kelly. Danny
I, m glad this was recommended it's excellent! Love duncan X
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 6:32:40 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Kelly, I loved the easy rhythm of this piece. It draws you in and makes you read on and on. Beautiful. Thanks for sharing it. David