Dreams
Blue midnight – still glass sea. 1
Angels wings bend down – flit away.
Still, simple, solitary tree.
Black, stark against the moonlight.
Desolate, loneliness cries out 5
And is hushed as if frightened
By the sound of its own voice.
Clouds cross over – night grows dim -
An eerie quality sinks in…
Flap of wings – strong and sure 10
A call of hunting shatters the quiet
Echo upon echo resounds over the sea
And dies away in a distant land
Far, far beyond here.
As if awakened from a slumber, 15
The cloud passes on through the sky
Blue midnight – the rippling sea
Laps by the shore of the tree.
And angels wings bend down
Like the mist over the sea 20
And all becomes hazy.
HRLyons
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