Patti Masterman


Forgotten Young Hands - Poem by Patti Masterman

forgotten young hands write the new fallen Spring,
where poetry loses her fires, blossoming:
remember, how stars could mine frost in the snow;
how clever their strength, could divided love fold.

the verses from above shall cover singing thrushes,
while man's easy days all die in tall rushes,
and clinging to laughter, are the lips of a muse
for some misbegotten poet, in love with the ruse.

the round light of the season softens the days
so the hearts of the mourners are easily swayed.


Comments about Forgotten Young Hands by Patti Masterman

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Thursday, February 4, 2010

Poem Edited: Thursday, February 11, 2010


[Report Error]