It Will Be Snowy At Kil-Sang Temple And A Poet

Thinking a man for ten thousand days,
Embracing a poem before, once he'd penned
For her, she'd recited a verse in her heart, in lifetime days.

On days when the white snows gently fall to descend,
When the day, deeply and deeply, that snow and spread
The mount, from there, a whity donkey, which descend.

She followed the path the whity donkey led,
No bell, no bridle, just left the footsteps to climb,
The donkey, fading out to the snowstorm like a sled.

From the heavens, suddenly heard the whispers of rhyme,
The wealth which she earned, gave to the other people
Mounted on the donkey, she started to other time.

But now, when the snow'll fall down on the Kil-Sang Temple
Then a poet'll recite a poem without the purple.​

(13th, Aug.,2023, Kinsley Lee Terza Rima)