at night the moon
is so bright, a pulling of light, low
on the horizon - and she touches my face
and with a silver embrace her glow
finds my dream; white is her gleam,
her wondrous delight wandering
so slow through my soul
until i widen.
is so bright, a pulling of light, low
on the horizon - and she touches my face
and with a silver embrace her glow
finds my dream; white is her gleam,
her wondrous delight wandering
so slow through my soul
until i widen.
2 comments:
nice. like it.
thank you emile
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