Something I Wish I Had Said

An hour will pass,
then comes anger,
stomping its feet indiscreetly, without warrant,
upon downtrodden emotions

where I laud anger.  'Love
is never to be trampled upon seemingly. Slice
cheese, uncork wine, reconcile divide
in the midst of torrent. Do so on a sandy

knoll beside the sea, where gentle
breeze assails unbridled temperament.
Codify unscripted words in sincere regime.

Seal syntax with signets of kisses.
Be to me the patience of tiny waves rolling
in and out, back and forth,

after the passing hour.'

~ Something I Wish I Had Said

© 2017 by emmett wheatfall
All Right Reserved


  1. Better late than never. Well... not always.


Post a Comment

I cannot speak for my poetry, it must speak for itself.