Poetry by Harold Strauss
The gates were guarded by a drooping man
With a tired face and a halberd in hand
Whose silhouette seemed through the fog
A grain-filled sack settling into nature’s laws.
His watchful gaze fell to his feet
And from my study I could see
That the watchman had finally fallen asleep.
Well done sir! I love your imagery. 🙂
Thank you very much, Walt!
It was my pleasure sir!