Nameless Poem
The night is long, The day is hard. It strains my brain To be a bard. Most dreams are drowned At birth by fact With small, if any, Tender tact. I age, lie fallow, Numb with time. Still know my name, If not my rhyme. Two puppies warm, Sleep in my bed, Where once hot lover Laid instead. In truth, my bedmates Have appeal. Fleas nip my flesh. Men nipped my zeal. I shall not fret That words are nets Through which I slip And tumble. Too wide for language Was my life Its syntax but A jumble. Well, I have piped a Song or two, and Danced a merry jingle, Though now I lay me Down and sleep With truth, and beauty, mingle. Written November 17th, 2001 © on Nov 17 2001 12:27 PM PST, Carole Dudley 0 • 10
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"The night is long,..."