The weather is strong, and Dark Angel is making haste,-
while the ancient wind moves the waves,
the birds no longer fly nearby;
the angry sighing wind,-
pushes along the sail;
this will be the story to tell
as this storm gives its hell-
the faraway town rings their bells;
warning a bad storm is making way,-
upon the land where we will stay.
- Judy Emery © 1986 The Queen Of Darken Dreams Poetic Lilly Emery
YOU ARE READING
MEMORIES
PoetryMemories are things that come to me in happiness or sadness of sorrows, so I made poetry. Old memories you will always be a very big part of me.
