"When earth's last picture is painted, and the tubes are twisted and dried, When the oldest colors have faded, and youngest critic has died, We shall rest, and, faith, we shall need it --lie down for an aeon or two. Till the Master of All Good Workmen shall set us to work anew..." ~Rudyard Kipling~
He writes:
in the crucible of darkness
she wipes the shadows of despair
berceuse of childhood brings no sunlights of joy
nor remembrance of mother's bosom and eyes
the phantom dies each dawn
and reborns each night in her heart
but for how long?
the petals entombed in her heart are withering
in the waiting
time stops
always december nights and never the dawns of may
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L'envoi
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3/06/2006 05:55:00 PM Permalink
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Labels: Verses
The LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.
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