#hew
The magic of summer twilight casts a spell
In ink blue incantations and honeysuckle dew.
Each shadow stretched out like the years,
That spread deeper and darker, stronger too.
As the mystery of day's last light is cast afresh,
Gentle glows, fearfully goes our sacred time.
Hidden there we lose and find ourselves,
In the murmur of the evening breeze, our lullaby.
It sends us, brings us to a mystic place
In which we all relive each memory's hew.
Tom Lefort July 2023
Jul 2, 2023
Jul 2, 2023 at 5:22 PM UTC
A torch at first light
cast upon path
that flicker upon moss
now heath omit garb in her moon quite dark
that is fleece as dawn ajar and her spirit bathe
in grapes that cheek her wiles but hew her sauce
that heals
Nov 1, 2017
Nov 1, 2017 at 11:11 AM UTC