A Frame Of Fallen Beauty Poem by Shanto Armonde
A Frame Of Fallen Beauty
I, the lover of night, the consort of winters cold confess.
I reach out to a reaching hand
A hand, out of shadow
Seen only by moon and me
Of faceless beauty
That draws close and closer still
Traversing ever-dark and depthless chasm
Silence in-between
Peace within
And ire of envious storms about
Fingertips touch, kiss and play –
And then together they
In sweet slumber lie
The dream ends thus.
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5/4/2024 2:18:12 PM # 1.0.0.1119
