Tony M Walton
The Real Culprit in the Matter of Love
Walking alone one windless June night
fear looked at the clock and asked,
'So, was there love or no love,
and what or who is to blame? '
Ah - Indifference. Though born of love,
it has no lover, circling slowly,
patiently with dull eyes,
peering below at the growing
empty spaces between words,
then plunging down
scattering swirls of feathers,
leaving hope bewildered and blinking back
a million tears of rain falling on the
upturned face of the sea.
But so you emerge with quiet eyes and
draw the curtains to a rain fresh morning and
the surf smooths out the new pages of white sands.
And the soft roar of the day
Tony M Walton's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (The Real Culprit in the Matter of Love by Tony M Walton )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- A Visit to the Unique Place, rohan bendre
- Yes, Mother Nature Teaches Bards..., Dr John Celes
- Tonic Pain, Soumita Sarkar Ray
- In the Absence of Light, F. J. Thomas
- Give me a drink, Diana Rosser
- White Power, F. J. Thomas
- Sweet Dreams, Sambanath Denis
- My unjust God, Nalini Chaturvedi
- continue counting..., Mandolyn ...
- the tail of poet, ademola oluwabusayo