Rider
Deep in the wildThe wildwood grain
Sways with the mild
Wind from the plain,
At dusk the elms
Bend, and bend low,
Dreaming of realms
Where warm winds blow,
Over the hillside,
Hard by the shore,
I dream of my bride,
My dark paramour.
Summer has died,
Fall near its end,
Now the cold tide
Our winter will send.
Under moon glow,
There in the weeds,
Ghosts softly blow
Wind woods and reeds,
High in the air,
Sister of Earth,
Venus is there,
Tiny in girth.
There on the roofs,
Fall the wan snows,
Tramp ghostly hooves
As the wind blows.
Under the star streams,
Over the tide,
Dreaming star dreams,
Nightly I ride.
Poetry by Achernar
Read 903 times
Written on 2010-01-27 at 18:25
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ZARIFE DEMIR |
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