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Welcome !	Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link	22-November 12:01:49 AEST

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At the Watchgate

Contributed by alanbrownfield on Friday, 26th November 2004 @ 10:02:19 AM in AEST
Topic: ambiguous

Withered ponies peel,
At the wasting, wasted straw;
And the yellow beast it swings,
And clutches with its claw.

The waiting cars they crouch,
Under clouds that crowd and glare,
And the yellow beast it growls,
at the iron sheep that stare.

And the grumbling ground,
It gasps and grasps,
And leaps back where it came.
The yellow beast,
Its hand, its teeth;
Its muddy murderous game.

Fenced left, fenced right,
The fading light,
Seeks cracks from which to seep.
But the yellow beast;
Its hands, Its teeth,
Is digging up the night.

Copyright © alanbrownfield ... [ 2004-11-26 10:02:19]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: At the Watchgate (User Rating: 1 )
by pixie on Friday, 26th November 2004 @ 10:03:21 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

very good, well written,

welcome to ypdc,

pixie xx

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