Poet Poetic Paradise Flowers Fresh Watered Poem by Terence George Craddock

the dust clothed traveller who travels far
across time vast distances arrives anytime
early or late sunrise to sunset or in moonlit

or darkest night weary feet feel destination sight

I came late to the door of the house of Varsha
not knowing if the hour glass was full or empty
time had swept me away like dust falling sands

for a year and a half or more I had journeyed
an afternoon sun was stretching time shadows
upon silent footsteps as poet laid poetic paradise

flowers fresh watered
upon the threshold
of a carved wooden door


Terence George Craddock (Afterglows Echoes Of Starlight)
Copyright © Terence George Craddock