EBB.AND.FLOW'S POEM'S, SONNET'S, & LYRICAL BALLADS for Thursday, December 29, 2005

Thursday, December 29, 2005

Re: party, eh?

A mocker of silence and slow time Sired a gifted child of the sun Who learned to fit rhythm to rhyme And ran in the race Man had begun. He hit his head on the ceiling of truth, He pounded his fists on walls of despair, He tore up the floorboards of faith Upon which he walked with great care. Under... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Ebb.and.Flow at 10:26 PM | add or view comments (1) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry
December 2005
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About this Blog

Alongside our routes and roundabout ways we meander and sometimes philander but rare is the one who can not say these verses are anything less than fodder fodder for spirit and soul and wit and wanton wild wordplay sometimes fickle, sometimes fit; in song that won't wage less than almighty war on the villainous gluttons for greed and for gore; those vile ones whose foreplay on web sites and film creates quite a stir as it crosses the chasm to the cliffs of regret and the lakes of remorse where the charms of God's Spirit run like a course. Taste of this fine wine it's stored here for you; if the vintage is hearty, then the future is true.

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