I came to a place in my mind
I thought was long since forgot.
A past-you're familiar with;
grain, wheat, stocks and flock.
To sight ones path and tread so again
we'll do so feather light so,
lead the way don't hurry or stray
the lack of will and might.....go.
Grasping once more I say it again
we'll leave the beaten bare road
that's traveled before, you saw, floured,
bake hardened and stocked.
Be it thy will of trespass...
Thy sodden...
Thy lay my will down upon a frown
beaming eyes, gleaming, thou worry forgotten
thy way across my wondrous construct town.
Go then...
Go shack...
Step in...
Sit back...
I lead, thou art troubled demist.
With in you hack, prepping hand fits that,
we feed more paths doubling the gist.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The perfect digest to match the morning coffee... thank you!