headline poetry

The shores are lined with hardened sons
with crystal clear eyes and stony smiles.
Behold a war to rage with muscle and bone
upon taught skin stretched over miles.

And in the wood we girls are weeping
tears birthing a mist that shrouds the land.
Our wailing stirs the beasts that were sleeping
and they join in the miserable song at hand.

And then, there she is,
still in the terrain
she tells me,
with her silky dress,
the good feeling stuff.

Said to me, a sweet moment's release,
lucky to feel so deep and so strong.
The anguish of ages, of love and of loss,
hold fast while it’s here, let go when it’s gone.

Ever more shall I weep the tears
of simple pains and joys that arise.
During the plodding of days and years
the bitter sweetness is the bind that ties.