Our King come home.

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  • Loss

    Our King come home.
    Over plains and distance shore
    From battle field and gore,
    Through the wind had spat his name,
    Our King come home.

    Were sword and spear now laid down
    Were he fell upon the ground
    A horse carries a hero
    Our king come home.

    So we may all recall
    That he did give his all
    So a fire bruns to honor him
    Our King come home.

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    Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    Quietcoyote’s Poems (16)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    I hate love 0 12/06/2014
    Bleeding out 0 12/06/2014
    Smoke, Love, and Sex 0 12/04/2014
    Untitled (for the moment) 0 12/03/2014
    One 0 12/03/2014
    The right kind of wrong 0 11/26/2011
    Esphixia 0 11/26/2011
    The Gargoyle and the Vampire 0 09/23/2009
    Walking South of Heaven 0 09/23/2009
    My Eternity 0 09/23/2009
    In the eyes of love 0 06/11/2009
    Time 0 02/18/2009
    it ends 1 01/05/2009
    Sweet Days remembered 0 12/12/2008
    The fallen and the risen 0 09/23/2009
    Our King come home. 0 12/12/2008
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