Mark Lawmon Poems

What charm
With which the gentle giant
Doth flit away
The worries of a lonely man.
...

We are whole
In that sweet home.
That homely home.
That foreboding house
...

The world is slowly turning,
And the sky is black outside,
But the fire in his heart burns brighter,
And the bellows do not subside.
...

Can you feel the world unwinding?
He has loosed the ties and freed the binding.
And soon his fury will come into your minding,
Until all that you know is lost beyond finding.
...

There's only so much here
But so much to fear,
And the fear of my failing
Is falling so near.
...

What lies over those hills?
What beauty is there veiled
In that verdant valley?
Or is it a vale?
...