Detouring.

I wandered and wavered on a lonely tread
I sauntered and weaved a holy thread
listening to the soft murmurs
lingering on the warm burners

Walking, trotting
cantering and talking,
a poet with his poem
on a youthful poetic galloping;
this ambulatory evening
the circling sun setting
becalming colors exuding
the artistic scenery elating
the winter not abating
and a poet’s relationship
with his poem escaping
the locks, the bonds, the chains
into the infinite universe exploding.

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One thought on “Detouring.

  1. Pingback: absorbed | Never surrender your soul

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