These grasses are wet
Scattered all over, harvest
Our feet are bare, I know, but
Don’t slip.

These times are stones
Our faith is fire-branded, yet when tested with gold,
Alike is not the same
Don’t flip.

If the gourd isn’t of God
Don’t sip
And when the nights nigh dawn
Don’t sleep.

for the sun comes,
for the son comes…


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6 CommentsClose Comments


  • Ochez
    Posted December 30, 2018 at 10:07 pm 0Likes

    These words are deep
    like a missile thrown at the board
    And the target scored, triumph is the feel
    I know. It got the left of me
    I won’t slip
    I won’t sleep.
    You’re deep Frank! Thanks

    • Posted December 31, 2018 at 12:04 am 0Likes

      My my, you’re sweet! I’d deep, you’re sweet, this comment has let me with a feel so deeply sweet! Thanks, Chey.

  • Tega
    Posted December 30, 2018 at 10:27 pm 0Likes

    This reeks of awesomeness

  • Posted November 16, 2019 at 10:34 pm 0Likes

    Whoa!! Deep!!!!

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