Tuesday, January 5, 2016

"Rhythm of the eye"


Repair, at last, the rhythm of the eye
Make sense of all of this of which I spy
The pans are known
The rhythm shone
And, with each beat
I feel the heat
And miss the wholesome sigh
The dissonance perceived is something less
The action and the nonsense need redress
The wit is thin
The nail is pin
The greed is known
Airs overblown
Beyond the pale I wait in eagerness

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© 2016 whickwithy


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