this(tle)




yore my thistle morning rays

glisten violet films, the day's

fill of light in all it's ways

fully various blossoms herald

sympathetic spheres symphonic

golden axis of the Sun

mists of rose

raise

high

higher

webs of silver dissolve

rivers of waving green

appear~ the clear air

breathes in the skies

open yore eyes

more some more 'tis time to play

yore my thistle morning ray~



Poetry by fyodr
Read 600 times
Written on 2007-08-01 at 16:11

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