To Miss a Lummox
By lupus tenebrae
Blue is true, as are words,
handed, gifted,
by wisdom itself.
Old and wise, a familiar tune,
and he fit the
bill, the lummox.
My West Virginian flame
only knew famous
last words,
and the tips of the glacier,
were but a mile too
short.
Humbleness befell me,
like every robin nesting above
the limbs on memory lane,
just off the beaten path of Maine.
Too late, and I never even asked,
where this nameless library
was,
as surely, its books must be ancient
but charming, and rustic.
Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited.
Ask the author first.
Copyright 2012 lupus tenebrae
Author's Note:
The first tribute, didn't really seem to get the point across, for me at least.Comments on "To Miss a Lummox"
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On Sunday, August 25, 2013, Lux
(299) wrote:
The Klot held meaning for us all, even as a new member when he had only recently passed. I wrote a tribute to him and this itself puts all memories to shame. I wish I could have known him better, for the words given are never as memories have been. Heartfelt, honey. ~I miss you, you mean ole Opklot~
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On Sunday, April 29, 2012, dwells
(4288) wrote:
I commented on his poem where he was searching for that old library, and then he was gone...