Lydia Martin

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Best Poem of Lydia Martin


What the eye can see, is it really there?
Where are the clouds on sunny days
When dew buds glisten wet with haze?
Is there really a lark in the clear air?
Where does the sky become the sea,
When shards of glass set wild waves free?
Are there thoughts behind a reflected stare?
What do they see within the glass
When shadows watch you bold as brass?
How can the eye see in the sun's harsh glare?
Whilst dust whips the wind through your mind
And sands of time stand totally blind.

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