Twilit Storyteller
Staring into the written moon
Words illuminating my space
I stand still inhaling syllables
Lost in the story’s embrace.
The pages cast a shadow
Imagination in the shade
Lyrical mating of the mind
A literary serenade.
Trees of erudite branches
Fallen leaves of knowledge
Raking piles into my memory
In hopes of paying homage.
Spellbound by the paragraphs
The smells of inky dew
Entranced by this moment in time
Appreciated by only a few.
Copyright © Constance Gilmore | Year Posted 2022
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