To Love’s Long Last
But despair not, for in darkness depth.
But despair not, for in darkness depth.
The last of the great kings and knights on angels wings.
A weary rootless traveler searches for his past and an America gone.
Of a blind white cover that removes time; souls sleep.
Rusted shells of a dying death throes nation’s loss.
Sweet grass, swaying with the summer wind and sun — standing still in a photo.
Missing the sound of the winter’s eve — and the howling winds from corners’ bend.
A weary rootless traveler searches for his past and an America gone.
If your heart ever hearkens back to a simpler time and home, “Finding Home” will touch you in a way that poetry has not before.