Inspiration

And when I felt the inspiration touch my soul,
And felt the pen so softly push into my hand,
I knew that time has come for me to throw
My dream onto the paper low-brand.

The stars were shining and the moon did glow.
Some owls flew pursuing poor mice.
The plants and trees too felt that strangest flow
That rolls our lives like do a pair of dice.

And I woke up from daydreaming again
And found my pen held in my trembling hand.
And then I saw: The white paper did glow.
The ink was red with blood of my best friend.


Рецензии

С 3 по 5 июля состоится Литературный фестиваль в Этномире. В программе – семинары известных поэтов и писателей, поэтический конкурс, посвященный Году единства народов России, книжная выставкая-ярмарка. Приглашаем принять участие →