"shourded" poems
Clouds, a breeze of change
Breaking of the old age
Tranquility comes in tides and waves
Changing leaves on crisp cold days
Golds,reds,browns
Melting down to the frosty ground
Mist shourded mornings
With bleary commuters yawning
As the fresh days dawning
At lofty heights the early birds soaring
The misty valley like a coast
A great while ghost
Jul 15, 2017
Jul 15, 2017 at 6:08 AM UTC