J.AllenDenham

Will and Weigh,
By J. Allen Denham

Should I find the will I need
to push through all this apathy,
to search for fruit or plant the seed -
to polish my old crown.
It would cause a stir indeed
to uproot overgrowth of weeds,
and foil that which would mislead
to keep my head turned down.

Striding fast against the strife,
boldly taking to the fight
of mustang will and clydesdale might,
that rests so deep in me.
Opening my eyes to life,
slowly waking up the light
of righteousness and soaring heights -
A future yet to see.

Seeing now in my own book,
obstacles crushed underfoot,
I've turned the page, that I may look
past horrors that I've seen.
Off of path that sorrow took,
renewed soul that once was shook,
fill page with both my stroke and hook -
blood red ink, sharp and clean.

As if waking from a dream,
once again - or so it seems,
like moonlight's kiss,
my tears now stream -
to poison fertile ground.
Blinded by what must have been
the lying rainbow - oils sheen
yet body strong and mind still keen -
The will cannot be found.

Please consider helping the puppy who helps me every day.

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