A Sonnet to the Goddess Dea Tacita [Poem] by Fred LaManna

tumblr_mt9i6s3fkf1qc5f7xo3_400

Motionless we are saved by the haunting of the quiet very loud proud sounds
They notice how much pertains to the climate as it were failing to overthrow
The metropolitan is an area well unknown to the skinniest of limbs they are kind
The trees with a passion keeping to the mildest sauces here contrast rounds
Noting how she ails the frosty composure is limited to each failed hard blow
Reaching for a standard not accomplished it hardens the softer part of the mind

Pouring elements of the cheeriest fountains this has her dispelling the ample
Crosses are hereby noted to saintly morose frosty pale ales are of a spicy kind
To gather the parts of the each of the very tightest of those pants are a true victim
Must we behave with the career of a boasting harped on tall giggling satisfied sample
What happens to the most repelled feast as it fastens to the taunting lines do bind
Across the spatial marks she can reach to bleed out the mounting enemy’s spectrum

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s