Will-O'-The Wisp

Poem By V. Jane Brummitt

Plotting, scheming,
we live our today's tomorrow's
as if we have no memory
of the errors of yesterday's sorrows. Seemingly, intentionally,
we chart life's way
according to the conventional
hoping for a brighter day.

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Other poems of V. JANE BRUMMITT

Seasons

What could be more transcendent
Than the mood of a winter night
Stark and lonely in dormant beauty
Shadows dancing to the moonlight What could be more bewitching

Spring

Who said spring is so very near
!tis no season or time of year
It's a state of mind I awakened this morning to dripping rain
It seared my brain as a sharp pain