Saturday, January 24, 2009


The musty and primeval spoor
that comes from deepest growth
inveigles me to linger like the moss
but I have made a binding oath
and will tarry here no more
for someone may be saddened by the loss—

forsaking Eden’s lush embrace
to don eternal gold
I hear the roaming creatures smugly jeer,
though later when the night is cold
I’ll revel in the grace
of sweeter flesh than any sacred sphere.


Noah the Great said...



Art and Poetry said...

Its the most original thing I've read for a long time!

rch said...

hi Noah, ha ha enjoyable!

hi Nick, thanks that really means something to me! :D