Poetry

by Pete Holly

The Horizen is askew today-
as if someone had jarred it,
I wonder if plainer folk-
oft see it that way

I see them Rise-as dawn approach's,
The scapel cleaves earths hardend mind-
Not for them,to look or see-
At one who care's-or stop's sometime-
and then can see them as not Blind'

Know not my name-
But see my Eye,
Tis' pleasant-
For one blind scarred-

Maybe from a distance Great-
you look at gardens,and think of
-Gods Reply-

Rebuke your servants-Bloody torrents-
Tear the flesh of mind-this gash-
is all of those you choose-
And all You left Behind-