Poem 295 – This Ancient Stone

This ancient stone beneath my hand
Is far older than I,
More agéd than the book I read,
Or the oak that blocks out the sky.
And yet more people know my name,
Even more the book, of course,
And the oak tree’s known by everyone
Who by, so here
I write to tell the world
Of my well-aged piece of stone
That will likely remain upon this path
When we all are cold and gone.


Dear readers,

Following last week’s efforts to have daily updates, I am continuing them into this week as well. I am hoping to use the two extra days to do things that are a little different for me – I hope that you (and new people) enjoy them.

Kind regards,

The Hapless Neo-Romantic.


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