Herself
She stood there smiling clean as a whistleWhile moonlight sonatas whispered secrets
Through deep blue rivers
She never asked you or unmasked you
( Someone there ? )
As Winter fell with icy jewel scents regret
Melancholy angel earrings tell her secret
Messages in love forlorn passages you lose
Your ways crime seldom pays, she says
Something soft as silence like a kiss
The little things you often miss like Light
She goes firefly fine into the Night
A world unto herself words of thistle
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 869 times
Written on 2017-10-02 at 00:03
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
|
F.i.in.e Moods |
