***The autumn dawn
has fainted,
hoar-frost shines
through my eyes.
Ghostly mist
from pine to
pine is
beckoning,
like a silver
breeze to
hallow all.
Our burdened
breath, it haunts
us everywhere.
I feel the silence
tearing up
my lost soul.
Where nightingales
do not sing
and dream the
blue skies of
the North,
I drift through
that middle air,
magic
is blazing
in my auburn hair.
And in these lonely
hours-ancient spirits
reflect within me.
Faces carved in
dead wood
walking on
my strings.
A seashore
howling below
the mountain
dew glen.
But i do not fear
to run in woodland
memories,
Into this autumn day,
Far, far away...***
Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 2:40 PM UTC
***The autumn dawn
has fainted,
hoar-frost shines
through my eyes.
Ghostly mist
from pine to
pine is
beckoning,
like a silver
breeze to
hallow all.
Our burdened
breath, it haunts
us everywhere.
I feel the silence
tearing up
my lost soul.
Where nightingales
do not sing
and dream the
blue skies of
the North,
I drift through
that middle air,
magic
is blazing
in my auburn hair.
And in these lonely
hours-ancient spirits
reflect within me.
Faces carved in
dead wood
walking on
my strings.
A seashore
howling below
the mountain
dew glen.
But i do not fear
to run in woodland
memories,
Into this autumn day,
Far, far away...***
