3 Herons

In the morning hours of six and seven
I stood outside, laid eyes on heaven
Blue skies, the sun withing my sight
Azure, enchanting, beams of light

And to my ears did reach the cries
of times long gone and distant past
now at this hour they played reprise
those ancient echoes of creatures vast



Poetry by ttius
Read 561 times
Written on 2014-06-13 at 21:35

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text



well, you drag a world with it
2014-07-19