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Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Wooden Fences


Building fences where others can’t enter
Careful of slivers and wooden splinters
Hands wearing protection; leather gloves
No gate; just a section of fenced in love

One fellow said, “You must build it from stone
If you ever expect to be left alone”
Another suggested it be made from wire
With barbs to deter any trespasser there

But, No, I said, the wood will suffice
I don’t want bloodletting sacrifice
Or anything cold when left in the sun
The wood will be fine when the finish is done

There might come a time on hallowed ground
That I decide to tear the whole thing down
Wire would be treacherous; stone would be cold
It’s not like I’m guarding a heart of pure gold

But a bruised and battered thing rests within;
A life that was shattered by changing winds
Through knotholes I see the ongoing world;
The passing cars and the pretty girls

It’s not here to protect some sacred purity
It’s simply a bit of added security
Some curious person without much sense
Is one day certain to jump that fence

And there we will be; shut off from the crowd
With no lights so bright or noises so loud
She will ask why I’d ever want to build such;
This dear sanctuary where spirits might touch

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About Me

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Boone, North Carolina, United States
North Carolina poet and musician Fabian G. Franklin invites you to join him on a poetic journey through the soul.