From The Writer To His Writing Desk Poem by Arthur H Rowley
From The Writer To His Writing Desk
Let us rest here now and wonder
of the world we're yet to see
Pulling public men asunder
with blatant tones of beauty
See summer with her lovers
held in sweet unstable eye
Nary letting warm storm plunder
lest her breath begin to dry
See the raven with his branches
barely bow beneath his weight
Taunted poets watch the dances
whirl of words left in his wake
Through window we watch from the corner
seaming stories from the former
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8/2/2025 1:30:21 AM # 1.0.0
A CLEAN MOOCHES! He was very hungry as I shared a sandwich for a trade in junior high and my eyes were real shinny for I liked my slice of bread-corn with pall my dignity dog. Sure tasty. I guyed a hungry too and roused me nearby. Her wave was moving hard-and-tight! “Hey amigos’ I find time for Texas whisky.”