Come walk with me awhile
Let us hold hands
In my footsteps beguiled
When I walk one last time
For’st to make one last Rhyme
One last time my Story told
For’st for me the bell whilst toll
Author’s Note: Be there at my death, which likely unannounced, might’st occur, such whilst telling a story. Hold my hand as I pass to still, if you will, I trust. It’s not all that joyful to leave behind, my journeys and time, my people and rhyme. But if I must, I will. I will leave them all, leave them aside, for new adventures I’m promised on the other side.🙏
Poetry often flows, right into prose. It’s just a wink, the way poets think.
tom tenbrunsel
Poet Laureate of my Domain