Not An Ear To Be Read
I laid my head in an ocean of heather,
Drinking panorama of silent weather,
Life still ahead.
When swarthy sky sent the messengers of night,
My lost time started grappling with dreams in fight,
Left miles to tread.
Down the bed of heather, resting in timeless world,
Echoes of silent words, yet to be uttered swirled,
Not an ear to be read.
Third Place in Triple Stanza Couplet Tail-Rhyme Poetry Contest sponsored by charles messina
Copyright © Jenish Somadas | Year Posted 2020
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