And death washes only bones; <br />The mouth of death speaks oft of every tounge <br />Never his patience once lost is found in all your nature; <br />Death washes a bone and the astrologer hands two back, <br />So the moon when lined up, shines down on Venus asleep. <br />Time smiles on the heart beating and long of face therein, <br />death puts it back on the middle shelf prearanged. <br /> <br /> And death washes only bones; <br />Deep valleys are filled with man's rich oil, <br />And covered over memories by death too often dredged. <br />Lined up end to end exposed again to harvest the tears of wait; <br />And death washes only bones and man who drinks so bold, <br />There being no truth and lies sown shut death eyes all bottoms. <br /> <br /> <br />d.t.<br /><br />Is It Poetry<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/and-death-washes-only-bones/
