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On Line
Robert Betts
Lee Hirst
2 Writers

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2 Members
24 Guests

He.
by Frederick Van Kirk
copyright 03-09-2006


Age Rating: 13 to 127

 
He.

He
Measures my pace
Upon his horse of bones,
As I walk along the road.
Oft turns his cowled skull to ask,
“Bearing well thy load?"
There is no refuge from his mocking,
The road is barbed to either side.
Bald-broken skull smiles at me, laughs;
"Why plod thee, when couldst ride?"
When, (as oft) I stumble,
He stretches down fleshless hand;
Grinning ivory grin; saying,
"Touch but my fingertips;
All, wouldst thou understand."
And as my burdens whelm,
I yearn towards my death,
And think how easier to sleep;
Then draw next weary breath.
He gazes out from hollow sockets,
No eyes where eyes should be;
Yet sees my outstretched hand, and cries;
"Take hold!"
"Swing thee up with me."
"Take hold;
And we shall gallop, gallop, gallop;
O'er clouds and endless sea."
"Gallop, gallop, gallop,
Cries, the Reaper;
None ride but ride with me."




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Comments on this Article/Poem:
Click on the commenter's name to see their Author's Page

03-28-2006 Elisabeth H.    

Stupendously written! Tis so that I have no words to compliment; speechless. An honorable piece of poetry. Yes, I have found another Shakespeare!


03-19-2006 Linda Doster    

This is really good. Normally I don't like writings like this one but it grab me in the middle and ended with a bang. Must be the writer!!!


03-16-2006 Jack Curson    

Fantastic, I wish I could write as well. This is an amazing picture you paint with your words.


03-13-2006 James Shammas    

I love the almost frolicking and playful attitude in this otherwise dark poem. I can feel his sinister grinning.

Jim


03-10-2006 David Pekrul    

It sounds as if the 'Grim Reaper' would have us give up on life. This painted such a great picture and I could almost envision the story unfolding.
Good quality of writing.


Visitor Reads: 264
Total Reads: 293
Comments: 5

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