Found a piece of paper with a poem I wrote last year.
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In viewing, mine amber spy-glass,
Pale stars I see;
A future spied 'tween her me,
A grandiose sight I'm wont to pass.
A veil ahead, is quick unfurling;
Obstructing loves furtive view,
That beckons to be seen, I knew,
Not worthy of I, and mine petty, crippled moaning.
The fine form that commands the heaven;
In darkness, pallid and shy,
A sight so welcome, I can nought but sigh,
Whilst my clock ticked twelve and eleven.
Therein my sights, as I panned the black-blue,
A malformed cobweb did snare my attention,
A slight on my mind, not of my intention,
I can simply hope, your meaning's false, not true.
YOU ARE READING
The Boney King Of Nowhere
Poetry"There's always a siren, singing you to shipwreck." A collection of my poetry. Hope you enjoy.
