21 nov 2013, 19:46

The Garden Screened 

  Poesía » Del paisaje
1178 0 0

 

When the clock strikes the midnight hour

And the flock of ravens sours the hiss

The winter's...  poor enough to falter

The ghosts... that reminisce!

 

***

 

It is somehow beautiful... to see

How easy... Every snowflake... flees... Away

To Screen on every branch and tree

To make us See... the reall things! This beauty...

 

***

 

When the fog comes to hover, for us to fool

And the mud is gone beneath the looded ice

I will stock myself with all the toured truth

To get to you (The Garden)... Wouldn't that be nice?

 

*****

 

But I can... wander... saunter... falter

the Ghosts... of Your Innocence!...

until I Find her, Feel her, See her...

 

The Garden... of my dreams...

 

 

© Кейтлин А. Todos los derechos reservados

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