A little poetry. I don’t typically write poetry, but sometimes I try. LOL!
A Ghazal of Searching
In the streets of Winter the men seek,
What all men must in winter seek.
Tired of running, we fall and weep,
And hope to keep away from the ones who seek.
In times of warmth, on their knees they pray,
A god whose face unknown they seek.
Forgotten youth, the old lines display,
The memories of youth, she always seeks.
Crown, wreath, garland, or reward,
If the meaning of my name you seek.