Monday, July 11, 2011

Fathom

There are few that could ever begin to accept
the depth at which my thoughts swim free
and fewer still that have bravely leapt
to join me in this stormy sea—

when scavenging for precious loot
make sure your tank has extra air
for those that drift above pollute
with murky toxins of despair.
at

3 comments:

  1. Eileen T O'Neill .....5:18 AM

    Bob,

    Your words are acurate and realistic too.
    Finding another, who can appreciate sometimes, our weird and wonderful thoughts, is nearly impossible.
    It's easier to find 'the put-down'!

    Best wishes Bob,
    Eileen

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  2. la fille7:18 AM

    I like this, the language you use is really technical and almost silly at the same time and it brought a smile to the face. Wonderful poem :)

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  3. rch9:54 AM

    Hi Eileen, thanks for 'jumping in' on this one, hope all is well with you :)

    Hi la fille, thanks a lot! :D

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