Poem Tag : time

The Drought

Published on Wed, 20^th Aug 2025 at 23:04

by William Troup

Low upon the lake, a docile crescent moon; abash, yet stolid, and luminous to a fault. The stars lays silent, affixed upon the sky, and this thespian claims the night, as a daughter purloins the south. What of the black dahlias? in repose they haunt the fields
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The Summit

Published on Mon, 11^th Aug 2025 at 23:27

by William Troup

Whether or not I will reach the summit, my desires still speak in soft, berry-shaped tones; a morass path of which I cannot recall, awaits for me in the appalachian springs, and renders a song that would leave the hummingbirds in awe; will my heart feel peace
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I Must Be Down by the Sea Again

Published on Tue, 5^th Aug 2025 at 00:53

by William Troup

I must be down by the sea again, I must be all but me. I must be down with my dreams again, I must be all but free. I must be down, I must be me, I must be me again, but here. I must be down by the sea again, I must be all but fear ...

My Heart Must Be a Bird

Published on Sun, 6^th Jul 2025 at 22:35

by William Troup

My heart must be a bird, for I have seen it fly away. Immortal, is my fantasy, yet still too far today. Fallen boughs upon the knoll, so nowhere is safe to land? what of me remains to stand, in the hope that she will return ...

We Outgrew Our Hearts

Published on Sat, 5^th Jul 2025 at 23:57

by William Troup

We outgrew our hearts, like so many things, and stentorian silence is the crown that sings. Our antique words, so brittle, unworn, may rend what dwells, and yearn to be born. We outgrew our hearts, like so many beats, yet dulcet voices is the rescue
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Complex Beast

Published on Wed, 21^st May 2025 at 23:23

by William Troup

My thoughts reveal a complex beast, yet the morn is set with felicity! Manifestations still regale a heart that's yet to feast. My mind pretends to be a friend, but my hand remains alone; What for tomorrow, again I ask, as my dreams prevail and
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Love Should Never Speak of Time

Published on Wed, 21^st May 2025 at 08:50

by William Troup

Love should never speak of time, for eternity is invisible to the blind. Ghastly ghouls may linger in shadows, but the devil may have forgotten their goals?