Sunday silence, gold-summoned <br />Onto morning shelves. <br />We choose the book, open, read. <br />Archaic pages, dust deified, <br />Sanctified by water. <br /> <br />Whence this liquid, languid <br />Penalty of truths...dawn haloed, <br />Labeled 'rise, rise'...do we then <br />Righteously smite the twilight <br /> <br />Beggar back...knowing he must <br />Limp from yesterday...having <br />Broken through the Storm... <br />Saturday Morning. <br /> <br />Tides trio Tess with tear-torn heart, <br />Thunder flung. <br />Dawn limos timid tints, oath-white clouds <br />Fronting gray truths. <br /> <br />Mariah smiles Time...ragged garments <br />Gold-summoned. <br />The beggar wraps in Sunday <br />Silence. <br /> <br />Yesterday sleeps.<br /><br />elysabeth faslund<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sunday-beggar/
