by Loyd Rawls

Created on: April 04, 2009

Poetry:Difficult People

When you are near

I feel the note of danger hovering

Like a serpent coiled to bite.

With quiv'ring fear

I sense the trap door low'ring

And know the dimming of the light.

My near last image is the smirk upon your face

And highly varnished hair to hold your horns in place.

When you are far

I know relief and joy profound

As dawn upon the white-capped sea.

Goodness guides my star

And possibilities abound

To remind that it is good to be.

Yes, you are welcome as a shot of mace

With your highly varnished hair to hold your horns in place.

Learn more about this author, Loyd Rawls.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.