Beneath The Dome Of Ancient Night
Beneath the dome of ancient night,
When owls awake, and poets write,
My lover sleeps, the sylvan child,
With flowers that are strange and wild.
A million miles away is she,
Until she wakes and smiles on me,
Twin mirrors of unconcious dreams,
To cast a light on all that seems.
What can we find that is not here
Between her heart and mine,
One precious moment made more dear
When our two souls entwine.
Comments about this poem (Beneath The Dome Of Ancient Night by Sacha Hayes O'Grady )
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