Broken Books

Live inside a spell of silence
rooms of broken books, vows and violets
grow in rows of sentences with words
climbing through breathless fields of light,
Magic lives, a momentary sigh
Escapes the dying body of the dream
Leaving shells of forgotten wells behind
Reads of self uncurling outwards toward
The familiar unknown is patiently waiting
Inside, a spell of silence live
vows and violets, rooms of broken books . . .



Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 628 times
Written on 2015-12-05 at 04:03

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