The Woven Letter
Chilled nights anxiously swept away
holding hope as daunting eyes dance alone
brushed strokes of silence escape
hearts flutter in anticipation words
aloft floating on solemn wings
indulging in free flight fantasy
amongst where angels do sing
pressed parchment lain longs to be
read under mysterious glow
radiant notes piously resound
peering stoically in ardent spirit
tense the quiet hour plays on
minds drift off to bountiful fields
yielding precious daisies sway
happily in the gentle breeze
amber strokes of lovely lift
doleful doubt and helplessness
aside unearthing jubilation
yearning for this never ending dream
Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2017
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