The passion of youth
The requiem of the aged
All rifling in roils
Save the pen of poets
And the canvas of pastels
This wind, distant hills
blanketed with fog, snow,
blooms, and breeze
The sea still calling my name
"come along and see"
The requiem of the aged
All rifling in roils
Save the pen of poets
And the canvas of pastels
This wind, distant hills
blanketed with fog, snow,
blooms, and breeze
The sea still calling my name
"come along and see"
No comments:
Post a Comment