Poetry of John Shaw

      The Smooth Sleepy


      This lake has no shadow
      Smooth unrippled texture has grown
      Quite winds alone as they bow gently into night
      The flurries that whipped pockets and points retreat,
      Efforts spent, to the sky
      In there stead lies not dead
      but for the smooth sleepy
      Not death at all, but an extended, untextured surface
      The smooth sleepy
      An expanse broad so as to beg a tear
      Not from pain but just a drop
      Just to pierce the sleepy's still,
      Allowing space more to fill
      For the storm creates not the calm
      The storm forms from the calm's nothing else
      Let the skies clear, cloud
      Let the downpour fill our lives with love

      Comment: About the sedate nature of a long term relationship.

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