Poem 21 Heaven, heaven crowned, the stars were lying upon the ground, that whiter blanket curved without a sound and leapt the blessed air entwining this coal black strand of trees all now sequestered or blurred into a kingdom of shadow. Dissolved message, one metered meaning moored. Contrasted majestic burst of sliver crystalline question; A mystery which ascends within us. Silver, sliver reflection sky is the window, bird spin the wind blown tell me of your dreaming From "The River of Swans" Copyright T. Byron K. 1999
3 Comments
Leo Da 24 Jul 2006
good workEmily Reed 08 Jul 2006
Such a pretty landscape!Chris Williams 02 Jul 2006
beautiful love the lines