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Fields Of May


We may wither away as the grassy fields may
Only atoms of an emerald dream never told
Immersed in spells so deep and rare
Writing secret notes to compare
Each other to;

With ghostly hands we wave the passing day away
With only the glimpse of a name on our lips to see
Through the winding, wandering mists roseate vistas flare
Without finding who we were, missed the instant that we share,

Each other to;
Writing secret notes to compare
Immersed in spells so deep and rare ,
Only atoms of an emerald dream never told
We may wither away as the grassy fields may.



Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 1124 times
Written on 2018-02-01 at 15:38

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