Author: Bob Adamcik

Our Mother Sat to Rest

Our mother sat to rest back down the way. We knew not, as she bid her shadow stay With us awhile. It was at noonday, bright With sun, when she complained of dying light, We grasped her arm and found a slack and thin Ethereal...

Read More

Priorities

I thought when first I held in store A silent, guarded bit of me That at last conquered your will, I was a child in fear of men. You, who vows like medals wore, To whom committal came so free, Were a woman — while I was...

Read More

Submission

Come, Lay your head against my breast. Await the coming of your rest. st, about 2004 Falls Church ___________________ © 2016, R.S. Adamcik adamcikb@pobox.com  

Read More

Home Again

How long the journey, How short the road, To have found my destination Behind the door I closed As I was leaving. st, +/- 2004 Otsego ___________________ © 2016, R.S. Adamcik adamcikb@pobox.com...

Read More

Recent Comments