From The Frozen Mist
Hanging in an apple orchard
frozen mist slowly drifts
as soft as a subtle song
When love was young and free
Romance calls to my wandering eye
searching a silken meadow of wild grass high
bending in poetic murmurs
wild tulips bring an inkling to life
From the frozen mist as if a dream had come to life
you appear in a beautiful ray of light
Calling out your name you look upward at soft white clouds passing by...
And in a breath you say "Come come be my light"
Copyright © Rick Parise | Year Posted 2025
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