Matt Johnston

At A Fields Cold Edge - Poem by Matt Johnston

At a fields cold edge beneath the moon
I crept toward the woods, but ‘twas too soon
For one so giddy with childhood fears
To enter so quick what once brought tears.
So I turned and ran back through the field
To howl at the moon that was my shield
Against pitch of black, and woodsy brink,
And this was daring enough I think.

Comments about At A Fields Cold Edge by Matt Johnston

  • Wandering Scarlet (9/20/2008 12:04:00 AM)

    i like the rhymes, they flow nicely. the sound of reading it without paying attention to the words is very pleasing (Report) Reply

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  • (9/10/2008 8:01:00 AM)

    I love the smooth flow of this one! A very enjoyable read.
    (Report) Reply

  • (4/27/2008 11:56:00 PM)

    An account fully captured and clawed into words (Report) Reply

  • (4/25/2008 9:27:00 PM)

    Compact rhythm and rhyme. You seem to be fascinated by the moon. You have company.

    Take care
    (Report) Reply

  • Callie Carroll (4/23/2008 9:08:00 PM)

    I am enjoying your rhyme and sense of rhythm, as well as the images you create. (Report) Reply

  • (4/22/2008 9:25:00 PM)

    The comparison of the moon as your shield from the darkness of night is simply perfect. It made the poem for me. (Report) Reply

  • (4/20/2008 7:29:00 PM)

    This is gooood Matt! Solid penning, well executed rime & blending! ! *10*! !
    Best regards, Friend Thad
    (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Friday, April 18, 2008

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