Sonnet XL: Who Stops the Pen?
©12-24-22, Olan L. Smith
To cheat a task; who stops the pen mid duty
Before the ink runs dry? At last they halt,
The colors blur, the face and hands are sooty
His quill is stilled until the end, his vault.
Demand is held in his esteem, what's left
Is gone, and lest devoid a breath to breathe.
No strength to move the pen, and him our cleft.
White paper, ones and zeroes, hidden sheathe
On screen of white of scores, unseen its prey,
A breathless hulk of flesh, mortician's tube―
Alas, balms replaces blood to stop decay
Esprit does leave his pate and upward move,
And hence no longer trapped within a heart,
Exploring the cosmos without depart.
YOU ARE READING
Sonnets Written by Olan L. Smith
PoetryI am moving many of my singly published poems into collections, and in this collection will reside all my sonnets I have written, and will write in the future--I hope you enjoy. Love, peace, and freedom, Olan L. Smith aka Cotton Jones. (Cover credit...
