- Non-Erotic Poetry
- On Virtue's Legs*
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Click hereThistles soft as prayer whisper
Return, return.
The tomb begs for the old stories.
Who listens here where once
dandelion seeds rose to sky?
Now excommunicated from sun,
ghost flowers lie,
paved beneath intentions.
Promises, salvation up in arms,
within the breadth of strangers,
and all fall strangled.
Who laments the absent troubadours?
Olympus is shrouded in centuries.
Magicians and madmen lie,
throw shadows on cave walls,
and topsy truth turvy.
The ashen cross
upon your forehead implies
no more than crumbled Crusade dust,
death and smoke.
Who can arise,
stumbling reborn
on virtue's legs?
*Written by Tathagata and Cerriwiden for the "Grab a Partner" challenge on the Poetry Feedback and Discussion forum.
- COMMENTS
LeBrozalmost 17 years agoThis poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 36,000 poems.
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Anonymousover 19 years agoTalk about setting the stakes high! I'd be surprised if any better poem comes out of the challenge. Wonderful you two!
