Against all my heart has loved
I hold a difference and a debt;
Across the low range of regret,
I walk a long-legged gratitude.
Above the simplest platitude,
Below the paramount praise,
Between all mirth and malaise,
I’ve been neither glutted nor gaunt.
I’m but an idiot savant,
Having held truth not knowing it,
Earning and then blowing it—
All pennies to a pauper gone.
But I don’t listen for the swan;
She sings not for my tomorrow.
I ramble light for heavy sorrow,
Another pike to press upon.
From the very void I look on
To the Juliet I’ve yet to find,
To whom all fallen fates I might bind
The learned best of why I am.
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Poetry: Lies And Lilies
https://windstrewn.com/2018/01/24/lies-and-lilies/
WINDSTREWN 
You may say you’re an average dude, but your poetry is above average. Love your poems.
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I am humbled by your kindness, Phyllis. It’s a warmth to me that others would spend time with anything I’d share. In many ways, a poem is like a coffee table; it welcomes the company and centers an often unspoken conversation. Thank you for taking a moment to comment…
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