.
An ethereal appearance
Like a smoky, swirling vermilion sky at night,
See her face composed of wind haunted songs
Enchanted waves of constellation hair falling like light
Into your downcast eyes
What is now, is not that which will be, sometimes
The hand that holds the brush is the heart that dreams of , hush
Who is there with mirror fingernails to reflect such art
A thousand years ago or more she spoke the words
Upon which a hero rose, and fell ,
Into your downcast eyes
Enchanted waves of constellation hair falling like light
See her face composed of wind haunted songs
Like a smoky, swirling vermilion sky at night
An ethereal appearance
What always never was, almost . . .
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 792 times
Written on 2019-05-22 at 14:00
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Night Queen Mirage (Almost )
What always never was, almostAn ethereal appearance
Like a smoky, swirling vermilion sky at night,
See her face composed of wind haunted songs
Enchanted waves of constellation hair falling like light
Into your downcast eyes
What is now, is not that which will be, sometimes
The hand that holds the brush is the heart that dreams of , hush
Who is there with mirror fingernails to reflect such art
A thousand years ago or more she spoke the words
Upon which a hero rose, and fell ,
Into your downcast eyes
Enchanted waves of constellation hair falling like light
See her face composed of wind haunted songs
Like a smoky, swirling vermilion sky at night
An ethereal appearance
What always never was, almost . . .
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 792 times
Written on 2019-05-22 at 14:00
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text