Pastel Moons
Under mountainsOver seas
Past the fountains,
Over leas
In the morning
And at noons,
Men are scorning
Pastel moons.
Over rivers
On the breeze,
Lightning quivers,
And the trees
Over spreading,
In the night
Men all dreading
Ghosts in flight.
Within castles
Near and far
Vapid vassals
Praying are.
Royals thunder
While the law
Halts their plunder
Hoof and paw.
Buried treasures
In the yard,
Empty pleasures,
Gold and sard,
All are hidden
In each bed,
Rise unbidden
Come the dead.
Poetry by Achernar
Read 792 times
Written on 2010-01-22 at 18:20
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