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purging the thorn
Folder:
Hyacinth garden
lost in neglect
no veil to winter exposed
memories linger
behind me
as silence awaits
beyond prism lens
redesigned
wisp of breath
vanquished into misty
with teary themes binding
hear the whispers
whispers
that echo against
the moon
long is the night
oblige these apparitions of me
bits of cloud
I have sheltered
into silent murmurings.
whispery promises
in lyric conversation
driven to ancient eloquent tears
of poets' image
purging the thorn from a rose
Sense and Sound
.
"...hear the whispers/whispers/that echo against/the moon..." I can hear the whisper in the repetition - a powerful line and poem - Lady A
.