When bosom is spent
7 June 2020
Wild flowers
Slender fingertips
Atonement
Peering through
The face like a daisy’s gait
Nimble and humble
Meadows strewn
Pathways scintillate
Meanings sink
Into heart
The soul a wolf singing low
Songs of never more
Breathe me in
I am canticles
Chiming through
Desert rain
I am remainder of pain
When bosom is spent
Reading of the poem:
Stive Morgan – Ice And Fire
So powerful, especially with this couplet:
“The soul a wolf singing low
Songs of never more”
Thank you Derrick 🙂