Billowing clouds of thunderous black,

spawn swirls and twirls of gusting loose trust,

hail and rain slash a sideways attack,

I grimace for loss lashing my back.


More, give me more, and more of my wage,

bleed, make me bleed, for all of death’s toll.

Don’t stop ’till I drop, and die from pain.

Unleash all I’ve earned, the burn of rage.


Why, oh why, foolish clouds do you part?

Black, give me black, and more of your black.

Sun, go hide, I’m not worthy of warmth.

Why, oh why, does the light kiss my heart?


14 thoughts on “Grace

  1. First, I love the title post 🙂

    Second, though the rhyming pattern is not perfect, I like the calling out or pleading voice to the sun and/or light

    Happy day to you ~

  2. I think you created a new form here – the reverse Rubaiyat Quatrain! Who knows, it could catch on. Having said that, I think you did quite a creditable job here, because the rhyme scheme forced you to think, to say things in a way you might not have, without the structure.

  3. very cool henry..you capture the essence of grace with this…instead of getting what we deserve…the rage…the black..the torment…there’s light and peace…good job sir

  4. Henry…no matter the form, this makes me want to invite you into my igloo where the shadows are welcome and no sun dares shine! There is a melancholy to the piece that simply sings to me…LOVED!!!

  5. When self-recriminations and guilt paint us into dark corners our thoughts ink in such a way. Well examined. Rhyme (as you commented) not quite perfect. The poem is realized. Try another sometime. It’s a challenge and worthwhile as Beth stated on the dverse page comments! Thanks Henry.

  6. This seems so suitable for Good Friday, with its ominous sky and strong feelings of regret. [ BTW, I loved the ‘annointed’ you used in your commen]

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