-
Seven swallows sat
With three golden rays to blaze-
A feather fell into
The waters dancing.
And then a fiery gaze
These waves
Accuse,
They mock with bliss.
An inquiry in asking why the
Swallows
Mist their wail,
For tension calls the lightest tune
When lightness
Wont prevail,
And water wonders
Why to cry
When weeping willows still
Stand still.
- by possum fool |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 12/26/2009 |
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