Braided and woven
Over the river, on the hill
Someone complained to the universe
Suddenly, out of dark and leafy ways
Our pleasant moments fly
I stand in the cold gray weather
Muffled drum's sad roll half beat
Long ago, in the
Young moonlight stir.
I am a woman
I saw him once before
One sweetly solemn thought travails
Out of the sparkling sea
Let me be sad
Since I have felt the sense of death.
*****************************
Poetry by Rev.Bola
(copyright:5Sep'09)
Friday, 4 September 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment