Fragments of Light

A rustle of sound stirs the passing moment

Were we awake were we shadows asleep

You were a sentient shade dressed fair in Light

I a spirit made of thought wearing the Night

As our waves wound away with laughter's cry

Caressing the day held by the sky



Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Written on 2025-11-03 at 01:56

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