In Order To Be Sane Poem by David Welch

In Order To Be Sane



A quiet call born of wind,
the rustling needles sound,
a hard chair of stony set,
cooler than dirty ground.

A raven's throaty call is heard
and endless birdy chirps,
beyond that silence evermore,
so much better than work…

Below a shepherd's happy bark,
faint echoes made of words,
illusions broken instantly
by another of the world.

But frustrated I cannot be
'cause who am I to blame,
another who will seek the wild
in order to be sane.

Wednesday, June 27, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: escape,hiking,mountains,natural,nature,peaceful,serenity
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Matthew Holloway 22 November 2018

Another well written poem....

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Being watched closely.

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Chinedu Dike 28 June 2018

Well conceived and elegantly brought forth with conviction. A beautiful creation. Thanks for sharing David and do remain enriched.

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Bernard F. Asuncion 28 June 2018

David, such a well penned poem.??????

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