Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
ormondPoems
In the temple of the mind— flash, Mortal pegs are but fingers shape, The light of dreariest day, told lash, All for the rush, conspiring too late.
0
Mar 30, 2013
Mar 30, 2013 at 4:17 AM UTC
Dusty Dreams
In the temple of the mind— flash, Mortal pegs are but fingers shape, The light of dreariest day, told lash, All for the rush, conspiring too late.
ormond
Written by
ormond
Irish
Mar 30, 2013
Mar 30, 2013 at 4:17 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem