Ancient Dream
I walk an ancient path of dreams,
through sylvan lands with silver streams.
Ahead I see the bright moonbeams,
behind, the snow capped mountain gleams.
Mysterious feelings expose what seems,
venerable woods with dread extremes.
Air so still tranquility screams.
Terror within my soul now teems,
no longer sure of what redeems.
For Shadow Hamilton's - Monorhyme - Poetry Contest
written May 19, 2016
Copyright © Francis J Grasso | Year Posted 2016
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