Beatrice Resurecta
her soft so fine and dressed in lightthe radiance of her soul and white
i feel her smiling, and soft she goes
as winters in her arms and dreams through snows
and her eyes
her eyes
no breath forget what beheld her eyes!
at loss of words and full of sighs
the lows that swift transmute to highs
as tis slowly affirmed that dreams remain so
so her beauty remains, as divinities go
Poetry by CrowRider
Read 666 times
Written on 2011-05-07 at 21:36
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