Dressed by a murder of crows
and dark mist of moon I walk
the silver edge of night’s mirror
where Longfellow’s ink still pools
in the fountain of dreams.
Free of sunlight’s woe I wrap myself
in his poet’s cloak to hold communion
with words that see hope in star washed shadows.
Aware sleep will soon demand
I seek my pillow I sing one last exclamation,
Night’s peace will carry me across morning’s horizon!
Comments
in the fountain of dreams ... so evocative of a magical world.
sometimes i do that too, do a pencil/color sketch of whatever that suddenly comes to mind, then try to find words to accompany it. sometimes it works, most times it doesn't, but that's part of the creative process. :)
yes, this year has been tough, and most of us pull through by doing things we loved. Merry Christmas and a Blessed New Year!
Very good, the words and the artwork.