Tuesday, 19 May 2009
Monday, 4 May 2009
The Dream
Swirling in this mortal coil
Amid the circling dome,
To fret among the frothy bays,
Rudderless we roam.
Blasting winds may parch us soon,
Or dust our swelting cheeks
When blazing beam of zenith star
Through the darkness seeks.
The house of straw sat burning umber,
Wails rang in my ear,
Roiling in the accretion disc,
Blue meek to swollen cheer.
The detritus then fell away
At the feet of dawning day.
Amid the circling dome,
To fret among the frothy bays,
Rudderless we roam.
Blasting winds may parch us soon,
Or dust our swelting cheeks
When blazing beam of zenith star
Through the darkness seeks.
The house of straw sat burning umber,
Wails rang in my ear,
Roiling in the accretion disc,
Blue meek to swollen cheer.
The detritus then fell away
At the feet of dawning day.
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