Reverie
The sun has set behind the golden hills
And silence reigns within the forest deep.
The dice of life fall as the goddess wills.
The shadow grows, the birds are fast asleep,
A somber night is beckoned by the breeze.
‘Tis direful from the cup of lore to seep.
The wind of autumn murmurs through the trees
Adorned by rusty leafage on their crowns.
Alone are those whom secret wisdom frees.
Upon the lake, the whispers softly drown
In playful croaks of frogs around the shore.
Accursed is he on whom sly Venus frowns.
The goddess moves, the silence to restore
And soothe the vulgar crowd into repose.
Unwise it is her wishes to ignore.
Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com
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