Monday, 7 July 2014

The Poetess

The crying sun
The moonless night.
The silent poetess
With words so bright.
The soft murmur
The gentle caress.
The careless whisper
Her silken dress.
She cries in dark
Her pain is veiled.
She puts in fear
A brave new face.
Those misty eyes
With tears like dew.
They speak to me
In words so few.
Her words flow
With unseen grace.
Her lips move
With mingled haste.
The silent poetess
Cries in vain.
For she finds none
To share her pain.


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