Violet Shifts
Could it be that Summer never wasCome 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
Read 965 times
Written on 2018-10-08 at 18:18
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text