are we the desert of which you dreamt?
that desert which is thought to be dead,
conceals so much life, I recall you said.
ours were the arid days and the frigid nights,
ours were the bazaar's strange delights.
ours were the parched roots and dead seas.
ours were the criss-cross'd caravann'd odysseys
the dreams we shared were false mirages,
hopeless hopes, a longing for refreshment -
a magic pool, a dash of rain or a passion cool.
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Author:
verona (
Offline) - Published: July 8th, 2022 06:59
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
Offline)
Comments1
This poem possesses such a beautiful, lilting quality. You treat it gently, with lovely rhymes that speak of love lost, sadly unfulfilled. A good write dear poetess.
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