black crayon
The winter's spirit and advancing maid
above the landscape fled before nightfall
the light extended to regale ahead
a glass of red and her betrothal call.
The molecules of mist descended on
the surface of the pond where shadows welled
the lady's features, made of black crayon
and glancing sacrosanct, my eyes beheld.
The shadows of the field surrounded me
her bridal veiling o'er my ghostly mast,
a standing, versus the horizons, tree,
diffused its branches fore the gray contrast.
2015-07-28, © Georgios A.V. All rights reserved
(Iambic pentameter)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
....εξαιρετικοί πάντα στίχοι, διαλεγμένες προσεκτικά εύηχες λέξεις, υπέροχο χειμωνιάτικο τοπίο σε ένα σκηνικό μιας ανώτερης ποίησης σε γλώσσα λόγια Αγγλική...!