For Scorn And Seven

For scorn and seven fold for the day is long
The cobbled street, Brittle beneath me under toe
Besieged by the winter storm
For solemn are the days and cold are these winter nights

Though shall not smother me with kisses
Or entangle me in silky threads
I have no time for rhyme or reason

For in the epitaph of my hypocrisy
I have no interest in your boarish wife
I am happy just enjoying the antiquities of life

Upon the rocking chair with a of lock hair
I'm happy with the quality of my life
I may be just a little vain but just the same
You're the one with the foolish plight
Upon the eve of this eternal night

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| Poetry 5 | Poetry 6 | Poetry 7 | Poetry 8 |

| Poetry 9 | Poetry 10 | Poetry 11 | Poetry 12 |

| Poetry 13 |

Copyright © Darryn John Murphy