May Zing
My friend abstract the dear May Zing
A pen in hand an artful pose
write wheels within wheels revolving
So perfect with the words she chose,
In point of fact a select few
predestined as immortal reads
glow in my mind like Heaven's beads
Now I suspect she always knew,
What was where and why is for
elemental guises pour
From her eyes (Light) gathering
stormy calms wait on her still
wanders dreaming in her will
She never tells me anything,
My friend abstract, the dear May Zing.
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2012-09-20 at 21:49
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