Delight Of You Own Self Is Gone? Poem by Liza Sud
Delight Of You Own Self Is Gone?
Delight of you own self is gone?
And everything reminds
About Your age all around?
On holidays it comes...
But you forget and rustle, sough
Your carmine skirt on dark,
And go deep into the thought -
There will come a new dove
That hides new sense behind the plait,
Like the sea, fustian, cool.
From the sea's point - Ideas' Cape
Is always beautiful!
Monday, February 17, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: mood
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5/4/2024 8:20:16 AM # 1.0.0.1119
