A hole in a seashell
Found on the top of a hill
Reveals when looked through
Paradise in cloud formation
Finches darting in the grass
Crickets leaping with abandon
Fingers of sunlight caress
The smell of my beloved
Linen and lavender and oil
Fingers of the holy cross
Gently hold my throat
Feather sight signals
There never will be what never was
Drift like dandelion wine
Around the Maypole
One last time.
YOU ARE READING
The word (a collection)
PoetryA collection of poetry. Short, longer. General, personal. Traditional and esoterical. Will add with time, as I sift through the random pile. Let me know if I accidentally double post anything :)
