Saturday, May 10, 2008

poem--- get a grip

Rapids disrupt my calm flow of life,
Changing tides cause me much strife;
Now a boat torn to desolate shreds,
I'm a spinning wheel without any treads;

Watch as we continue to stare and fawn,
God grant that this river may crawl on;
Lost within infinite gaps and spaces,
I can't remember all of the faces.

1 comment:

Christine said...

OK, I'm going to sound like the language arts teacher now.

The first stanza has some good imagery. But the last line in the first stanza - you switch metaphors. Stick with the water images.

The last 2 lines of the poem are great. It's exactly how I feel right now as school winds down for the year. :-)

Mrs. R.