Spells Of Doom
Poem by Paul Beare
Thank you would not be enough unless I said it softly to the Lord.
For the woman that I came upon saved me from my doomed vision of a solitary man.
A vision that made me feel like a beetle hiding under a cold rock near death.
I was unable to see the light.
I tried to plan my next move for my life, but the hand of time felt like a slow death.
Gradually the lovely day with a girl in the sun was fading out.
Then as time breaks all spells of doom, my enemy had finally fled.
I crept out into the bright warm sun.
My aching arms were up like wings to the sky as down by the old oak tree stood the angel of a woman who would set the lonely spell of doom free.
The grass under my feet felt so soft now as my angel of a woman and I go walking into the valley of love.
Comments about Spells Of Doom by Paul Beare
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.