Mark Norton Poet I do not know?

Slip Away

Slip away


         Land, oh land give forth of thee
         In this darkness, barren and cold,
         When out of your silent desolate past  
         Remain the winds of fate

         For somewhere once did slip away
         The morning bright and clear,
         Until in the depth of our own mortality  
         Are lost the winds of fate

         Illusions haunt the early light 
         When sounds a daybreak’ call,
         Into the breadth of a coming dawn
         Or the simplicity of fate

                       By m.norton

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Constance La France December 20, 2010 at 5:38 PM Many wonderful lines within this poem "until the depth of our own mortality~~Are lost the winds of fate" just great, you have a gift with words~ Mark Norton October 26, 2012 at 1:16 PM the days to the years go by, ever faster, never slower. thanks for your words my love; i would like to read some of your work, mark!