The moor is wet from the summer rain
I can’t walk on its steep, mud-spattered ground
Wild trees and their leaves soaked in vain
Those squirrels cannot jump round and round
I see a rainbow at the end of a foothill
Seven colors of seven chances
I’m cramming to grab my own goodwill
Somebody has to lend his inner senses
Far from the lavished home
I’m uttering a prayer loud and clear
On this imaginary little Rome
My solitary is something I now bear
2012
chester maynes 
I loved the picture I lived in my mind, word by word. I felt all those feelings vividly. Beautiful.
i can see the guilt in the liar within the poem. Very nice. I like your style Mr. Chester. 🙂
Hi there Chester, I really like the way you string your words together.. your poems have a nice flow and rhythmic tune to them. I was wondering if I could post a couple of yours in my daily poems on my blog? I would love to share them.
DD
Beautiful poem..
thanks for liking this one and for dropping by! 🙂
Favorite line, “On this imaginary little Rome // My solitary is something I now bear”
Danny, many thanks for taking the time to comment again! 🙂
The imagery in this poem is very inspiring to me to add some into my poetry 🙂
thanks for being inspired by my poem 🙂
nice poem! 🙂