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Cobwebs

Rating: 3.0

It is a land with neither night nor day,
Nor heat nor cold, nor any wind, nor rain,
Nor hills nor valleys; but one even plain
Stretches thro' long unbroken miles away:
While thro' the sluggish air a twilight grey
Broodeth; no moons or seasons wax and wane,
No ebb and flow are there among the main,
No bud-time no leaf-falling there for aye,
No ripple on the sea, no shifting sand,
No beat of wings to stir the stagnant space,

And loveless sea: no trace of days before,
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Dom Wisperez 01 July 2007

what a desolate plain of despair. i wish not to step foot in such wrechidness. well put.

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