Keith Johnson

Gold Star - 4,559 Points (9th June 1944 / Cheshire, England)

For Medhi Mousavi: ميان خواب کسي هي مرا تکان مي داد! ! - Poem by Keith Johnson


Each morn a thousand sorrows brings the day
More endless hours that silence dreams away
So when the autumn shrinks the cankered bud
No rose will flower to sunlight as it should.

Bare blocks and dusty floors the times allow
No books of verses there beneath the bough
No wilderness, no songs - just bitter bread
And paradise betrayed with death its stead.

Etch the writing now upon the bloodied wall
Where words are lost as censures’ shadows fall
Though those who seek to bolt the dreamer’s door
Have lost the way to what is good and pure.

Where less travelled roads to crossroads lead
There signs to love and life will justice heed
And for the miseries of this world, let some
Hold fast for promises of rights to come.

Look to the rose unfold in better days
In truths it pleasures with its bright displays
For when the summer heals galls' blight with light
Stainless treasures greet fair freedom’s sight.

Topic(s) of this poem: freedom, poetry

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, November 26, 2015

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