An age of Spring
I had a vision of how perfect life should be:
A muse sat down, singin' poetry to me,
and in this dream, all lonely hearts did find,
a loving equal: joy to the soul and mind.
I dreamt of snowflakes that flutter in the wind,
and buds, awaiting, yearning to begin,
to sprout, envigorate, enliven, and break through,
to sing of spring, Its Poetry, to you.
What silly dream, communing with a muse.
She shivered, using winter as a ruse
to leave this mortal age of "no time",
to wait for spring, when poetry will rhyme.
24 января, 2002
Свидетельство о публикации №102012400938
Selodka 25.01.2002 11:50 Заявить о нарушении
Огромное спасибо за ваши тёплые слова!!!!
Мне было приятно до чёртиков :o))))))
Танюша.
Athena 30.01.2002 00:56 Заявить о нарушении