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No. 5 Who we are

A poem by me

By alan piercePublished 6 years ago 1 min read
Sunset over Shakespeare

Maybe I'm dreaming of your ocean eyes

Reflected in the emerald skies

But I don't know

Where summer always goes

It seems to fly out the window with the bees

Your hair's a lovely shade of sunset gold

Which burns the hands which try to hold

What a glow

Yet no one seems to know

This kind of light it always gives off heat

There's gold somewhere in here

I hold that truth so dear

Maybe at the rainbow's end

With my banjo strumming friend

He sings a lovely song

Which inspires me to move along

And dream

Where's the reason in these useless rhymes

Is lack of one such a crime?

There I go

Hitting myself on the nose

That questions how it often goes with me

surreal poetry

About the Creator

alan pierce

Working on creative writing sword-and-sorcery stories, as well as essays on social change

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    Written by alan pierce