WordChimes poetry chimes
Chime Of The Day
Poetry Chimes
Newest Poems
Featured Poet
Poet Chimers
Child Chimes
Blog
Chime Links
ENC--Class of '55
WordChimes Founder Quentin Clingerman
Contact Us
 
 
 

The Dream
Viewed Last 24 Hours: 0 time

By Rich Tassinari
Other Poems by Rich Tassinari


       The Dream

 

  1. Pilate’s Wife

The sun departs, so too the deeds of day
As if the eve has washed and drained away
The remnants of routines that wouldn’t keep,
But yet, my pending thoughts won’t fall asleep.

And when the light no longer bares what’s true
To eyes that closed at day what true thoughts knew,
Then sleeping eyes at night look in the dark
And see the truth is plain, and bare, and stark.

The murmurings I heard revealed a plot
To end the words of Him who many sought
For miracles, and hope, and faith, and love,
My husband fails to know the meaning of.

Spare Christ from death for He is just and kind,
Spare me the torment living in my mind,
Beware; the players in this play are dire,
They wrote a script, through you they will conspire.

 

     2. Pilate

Another night of interrupted sleep,
Without sufficient rest, how can I keep
The pace and sharpened mind throughout the day
And still have wits to govern, zeal to play.

And then a message came with bold remark
From her who dreamt a future bleak and dark,
It warned beware a fated rendezvous
In which one sentencing will sentence two.

And so, I worked a way to save his life,
Not just for him, but also for my wife,
I gave the plan good diplomatic thought,
But he did not accept it as he ought.

A spark of discontent blazed into fire,
The people shouted out a blood’s desire,
And so, to them, not me, he was consigned,
I washed my hands to leave this all behind.

Rich Tassinari 1/18/16


Timely Comments on this Poem

No comments currently exist for this poem.

Submit Your Comment

(will be kept private)
Comment:



Please enter the code above into the box below:


Submitted: Monday, January 18, 2016

Last Updated: Tuesday, January 19, 2016

About the Poet
Husband, father, grandfather, and each title is my joy. As a youth, poetry was a means to express the inexpressable. I was attracted to (and still am) the beauty and brevity of verse. All flows out from God, and like a proper prayer, can flow back.


Other Poems by Rich Tassinari

Currently Playing:


[Add Your Poem]

[Chime Of The Day] [Poetry Chimes] [New Chimes] [Poet Chimers] [Blog] [Chime Links] [ENC--Class of '55] [Home]