What is this that fills the air?
The faeries that glow, that seek my lair, roses, and thistles’ kiss for today's smile.
Maybe the taste of willow wine has sort a
while, as blooms of silver and gold glow in natural grace
things so cloud-driven do under a pace.
Airy worlds, as sleepy as ice, with threads of lace twine and sing
in orchestrations charm and sound bringers of the dance slumber.
Through sunrise found is this am I the soulmate of Alice's dreams
or are wonders of classic violins pouring as cello's seams.
Maybe the pace of age tells you to sing, then to daylights call
majestic fireflies blare their trumpets tune to
nature's relevant stall be seen, be clean, between the good days
and nights of monthly strides to charm
haystack straws of sleepy pillow bed on this word play driven yarn.
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Author:
Neil Higgins (
Offline) - Published: August 4th, 2022 05:15
- Comment from author about the poem: Yet another old one from me. A spiritual amble into full life Renewed.
- Category: Spiritual
- Views:
- User favorite of this poem: Teddy.15.
Offline)
Comments2
And a very warm welcome back from me dear Higgins. 💖
Thank you.I needed time out,have finished my mother's rockery project,recharged the batteries,plugged in,switched on the base fender,strummed up some Hendrix and Dave Gilmour,and I'm back 😎
Definitely a case made for that willow wine, Neil.
A cloud of enveloping richness there.
Thank you Dave.
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