Ethereal Moments The Poetry of Donavon Scott Vinson
Midnight Hour
In the steamy heat of the midnight hour,
the reality of my day becomes wondrous fantasy.
My sweet dreams find me wandering slowly
through the wispy ethereal mists of an ancient forest
from another time,
slowly drowning my sorrows in the serene
silence of a sparkling,crystal blue lake,
as I joyously listen to the sweet song of the
whispering winds and feel the soothing relief
of its wonderful hand upon my heart.
Donavon Scott Vinson