Poems of Lighthouse Bob
A Gust (Sonnet) #185
One weary from her travels came to rest Upon drawn bed of leaflet's soft cascade And sojourned there to venture on to nest Beneath a leaf and twig mixed marmalade. Though rage of nightfall sought a flurry's scorn, On brittle auburn hues with endless sweeps, The golden Luna danced away 'til morn -- But all was vain for one as lost who sleeps. While twilight drifted forth, tomorrow came With past awakenings to scourge the view ... Aspired to look beyond a slumber's shame, A hush swept wisp began to grow anew. Like sprouting from a willow's parasol, A gust, now resurrect, doth meet the Fall. -Lighthouse Bob |
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A Gust (Sonnet) #185
A Gust (Sonnet) #185