Barry Conway


Strange Then - Poem by Barry Conway

STRANGE THEN

MY BOOK,
RESTS UPON THE BUTTERCUP AND DAISIES,
AS THE EASTER BELLS,
BELL OUT INCESSANTLY,
SPOILING,
A LOVELY WARM SPRING DAY,
CALLING ALL THE DELUDED,
TO WORSHIP,
I PRESUME,
WITHOUT QUESTIONING,
THE SCIENCE,
OF THE SUN AND MOON,
IN WHOSE FORMATION,
CREATION,
IS ACCREDITED.

TO THE UNPROVEN BELIEF,
BENEATH,
LIES MY ACCEPTANCE.
STRANGE THEN,
AS THE TOLLING FINALLY STOPS,
THE WIND DROPS,
THE SUN HIDES,
AND THE LOVELY DAY,
BECOMES WARMER.

Topic(s) of this poem: belief, cynicism , religions, science


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Poem Submitted: Sunday, June 25, 2017



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