Asleep not
Asleep not, my muse begins to trot,
Evoking whispers of willow
In my memorial mirage.
Asleep not, my concern is hot.
It has nothing to pillow
But your cold corsage.
Solely awake solely in wait
Whether affectional arrears
Find the atonement too late
To recoup your stray tears.
Half desirous half in despair
How my wistful heart dithers
When into thin air
Years of attendance withers.
Copyright © Amarantus Lauriere | Year Posted 2025
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