Barry Middleton Poems
|1244.||Dusk Belies Darkness||4/27/2016|
|1245.||The Thunder Spoke||3/19/2017|
|1247.||The Pen Of Poets||1/2/2017|
|1252.||A Silent God||1/27/2016|
|1255.||Beyond The Moon's Embrace||7/30/2016|
|1256.||The Death Of Paris||6/12/2016|
|1257.||Eve's Relevant Secrets||6/7/2016|
|1261.||Naked As Rain||4/7/2016|
|1262.||A Broken Promise||1/28/2016|
|1263.||Things I Did Not Say||8/8/2016|
|1264.||The Lonely Time||1/27/2016|
|1267.||Letter To Myself||5/20/2017|
Letter To Myself
I wish that I had written you
when I was young and strong and wise
I knew that I would never die
I'd face the world without disguise
but as I pen this note to you
I have grown old and tired and weak
but I recall that hopeful youth
it is to you that I must speak
I can but say what I was told
to quietly sit and watch the crowd
and see the good and evil there
and think before I speak aloud
and though I wrote it long ago
I would not take my own advice
and that has put me on this path
with wishing that I had thought twice
I've come to ...
The Paris Accord
A drought is almost like despair,
but then there comes a flood.
The cycles of the patient earth,
run deep within our blood.
The seasons of the sun revolve,
like seabirds in a gyre.
We pray for sacred rain to come,
and quench damnation's fire.