Thursday, November 3, 2011

Mist in the Wind

Crystal-clear and placid is contemplation's basin;
a pensive splash of sustenance, remote, atop a crag.
Helios and Luna console and caress
yon humble creation, knows it aught of distress?

Yet surely you sense the wistful lament;
gay breeze bears aloft impalpable tears.
No image of weary wayfarer to echo;
no sojourning eagle to sip at its shores.

No comments:

Post a Comment