Violet Shifts

Could it be that Summer never was
Come see,
Soft violets grow beneath a sudden windowpane
Scenery shifts and weaves in rows of
Who knows ?

Perhaps the rain may fall again
Moons turn to crimson old as say
Something dry to burn the eye
Nothing there behind a stage
Of ghosts is crying to be set
Or dressed in Light of Snow
Regret what never saw,

Who knows
Scenery shifts and weaves in rows of
Soft violets grow beneath a sudden windowpane
Come see,
Could it be that Summer never was ~



Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 890 times
Written on 2018-10-08 at 18:18

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