dpbowman

The posings of a poet.

De


love is in the Bird's Nest

(Photo: DonDomingo)

There is
   a tightness
       in my
             chest
It seems
    my mind
        just cannot
                    rest
Are these
    sins that
        should be
                 confessed
That one simple
       change
          no one
              guessed
Could make
      me feel
           so cramped
      and pressed
Can only
    mean
         what I
             hoped
                  was best
Was
    more
         than that
              for in
                   my chest
I held
      that precious
           one
                as my
                     guest
And need
   is not
     a word
        to use
            in jest
I do not
      mean
        to be a
           pest
Return
     to me
        for this
                    test
Is beyond
      my strength
         for which
             to quest
Please
     come back
          within me
              nest
So I can
   live again
         with zest
Else
     I shall
         know
            what means
                       …
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8 thoughts on “De

  1. ~Lady Day on said:

    You are a marvelous read…’de’….integrity? or a different meaning I can’t tell this time?

    • The clue is in the tags. 😉

      • ~Lady Day on said:

        Aw dear Dan…see, I read you proper yesterday…lovely soul. You will be okay. Whatever ails you, well, I hope it passes and you do not sink..though, I think this is the battle all artists fight, we write instead of plummet or medicate right? Lovely writing that touched a like soul friend. A pain we all feel well. xo

  2. Lady, my writing is my medication, my therapy and my exorcise. 😉

  3. Oh Dan … so much here (not surprising) Hugs to you on this one…. And may that precious one return to the nest, if your heart desires ~RL

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