- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Dust Colony
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Click hereI dwell with soft denizens,
my purpose gray on cover gloss.
Gone are the Poes and Tennysons.
Words lay 'til they're at a loss.
I am draped over seasons frayed,
my purpose gray on cover gloss.
Sweet muses are never staid.
Motion sends currents beneath.
I am draped over seasons frayed.
Writing of beauty is a thief,
leaving me dry when she moves.
Motion sends currents beneath.
Through sieves, into the grooves,
filtered from the inspiration,
leaving me dry when she moves.
In this dull hibernation,
I dwell with soft denizens,
filtered from the inspiration.
Gone are the Poes and Tennysons.
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copyright d. dixon
july 2004
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- COMMENTS
Safe_Betover 15 years agoThat is a beautifully sad poem. I know I'm suppose to have some critique, but sorry, I like it just the way it is. Thank you.
