Immemorial - Poem by Mark Heathcote
Time is often;
Dreamed as longer then time exists to be?
No need to smell the rank-rose over to discern, the dying abominate bee.
As with each new flower
A wellspring stem seeds the souls of men again.
Comments about Immemorial by Mark Heathcote
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.