Don't know what to call this poem - another draft perhaps?
What do you think of this poem, is it worth re-working?
For a tower beyond shape
It centers its embassy through.
god’s lift its holy cylinder
across a medieval view.
evergreen hills of sapphire, a sky of colonial dream
The people flowing the realm
under a high lord or king.
Emblem of an armourial figure,
slipping truth through its frame powerfully
A picture conjured throughout minds of the land
stated clear in the tower, it seems.
His majesty stood taller than any endeavor yon
For any lord of higher power before to sweep.
Last edited by Yonathan1; 06-06-2016 at 07:45 AM..