Sleep is welcoming
After the sun fades
And the night song is thrumming
In dark and hidden glades.
Weary are my limbs
As I lay down on leafy bed
And dreams are my whims
When I rest my weary head.
Glinting stars cold and bright
Guide my wandering thoughts
On a silver winged flight
In a tumbling musical waltz.
Knotted tree limbs sprawl
Over expanse of deepened blue
As leaves to the ground do fall
In golds from branches of yew.
I pray the nightingale sing
In sweetened tunes tonight
As now my dreams are taking wing
In that ethereal graceful flight.
YOU ARE READING
At the End of All Things
PoetryMoons and suns rise and dip Below the horizon Yet still life flows onward In all of its glory Icy winter crowned in Mistletoe and holly and frost, Bound in crystalline perfection, Tender spring, sweetly singing Seductive in its melodies, Beckoning w...
