The Haze
Twas in a summer thunderstorm
And lightning lit the night to day,
I stood aghast and so forlorn
When first I spied a certain Haze.
It took on form - lovely Diana -
Or Boudica with upraised banner?
A shapeless thing in many ways,
That woundrous, beautiful, misty Haze.
It beckoned me - I could not but follow
Into a Net of Glory Days
But like old battlefields, now hollow,
It broke apart, that hazy Haze.
If I could commit one thing to mind
Of all things Past has left behind
It would be 'til End of Days
That wondrous, beautiful, misty Haze.
Copyright © Allen W Trew | Year Posted 2012
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