TempestA Poem by AnnaLavender twilight slinks shadows 'cross the courtyard, granting permission for the moon to rise over England. The night is gentle, a quietude not found in sun-storms; raging oceans catching rays that remember a kind wind. The ghostly shanties of a jackdaw echo in the great halls, ravaging the cradle of sanity I cannot hope to pretend. Children are foolish, teary daydreamers, as is their right; fearful of lectures and some god that one could offend. Under starless skies I have grown old- withered and weary, channeling the vast unsteady waves of pale foam that sway. 'I am a warrior,' I whisper to the rainswept, angry sea; A hallucination so childish the wrinkles almost fade away. The labyrinthine hex that guards the wilted forget-me-nots, quivers in a state of cold unrest, plagued by a distant day. Lightning clips by the cruel unruly coastlines of England; calling to a child who cannot swim but sails ahead anyway.
© 2017 AnnaAuthor's Note
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Added on August 24, 2017Last Updated on August 24, 2017 |

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