The fountain
In sorrow
Water ran dry
Its heartbeat
Is muffled
Gaze to the sky.
To its angelic
Companions
Also in bronze
Wings silent
And resting
Eyes to ground.
Waiting
For lovers
Now vastly
Apart
Seperated
By circumstance
Entwined
Memorys heart.
The silent regatta
Moves free
In a dream
By the old fountains
Stature
Is anything real ?
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: July 19th, 2025 03:00
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments2
Is anything real indeed. Great metaphor in this piece that speaks to the reader about what one can believe. Love itself often a betrayer. Very nicely written a fave
very kind, thanking you and much appreciated
My pleasure
Excellent write
very kind, thanking you
You're welcome
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