When light fills
The morn's mist,
One finds how dew drops
Sparkle awakening of diamonds on leaves,
When light fills
The foggy air,
One gets to dreams of drawing out
Pink pullovers
From almirahs,
And winter
There one thinks
And feels with a mild chill and shiver.
Monday, October 28, 2013
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
The State Funeral
At least they have given her The State Funeral With tongue cut, She could not have spoken for The rare award, The police have done the th...
-
Lord As a pianist whence Fully one fills a sense... An evening thinks perhaps it proper To become a starry night's divine lover... ...
-
Once the sculpted face Fell and with it fell Our pride Our demons We made love after that By the sides of our past. (For 'Magp... -
For the last few days... They are not talking... They just listen together-songs... Not songs proper even-some kind of music, instrument...
No comments:
Post a Comment