as the glowworms in the stygian night threw flickers of light like scattered gems, when little birdies cuddled under their mother’s warmth, while the long whistle of a train was dying in the distance, I sensed the indulgent grip of the hands of Sleep who took me to his gilded chamber of dreams!
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.