Blogging Poetry

Keeper of Gilded Things 

Improbably Noble.

An impossible role.

A Soul, improbably Noble,

Compiles the Things, Baubles,

Treasures, Thoughts, things that fill The Hole.

Gaping Maw, Grinding Craw,

The Starving Gullet devours All.

But, Soul, Her Message calls

A silent down to pad our fall.

Keeper of Gilded Things,

A Reaper of what Sorrow brings,

To You, Golden Soul sings,

Soft lullabies to soothe the Sting.

© CGT, 2017.

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