In A Garden, A-Drowse Poem by james watkin
In A Garden, A-Drowse
Even lulled herein feel it;
Worrying, pestering;
Time; as close vulture, shouldered
For Death's reminding.
And with its stick of guilt's
Do, do, do, demented
Beaked, brought down on this sunned
O'ergrown laxness seated
I muse, where then can be sought
If no urban places
Edenic are spared, which rest
Life's relief, out-faces?
Wednesday, June 23, 2021
Topic(s) of this poem: sleep,time,garden
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8/1/2025 11:25:20 PM # 1.0.0
