Her Sort, A-Trembly, Wavy Poem by james watkin
Her Sort, A-Trembly, Wavy
Her sort, a-trembly, wavy
Spurning all nets morn to eve
I still doubt, re-encountering.
Who, first, was hard to believe!
Fair things, fairest I suspect
Remain, and will ever so
In light, shyest. Imaginary world's.
In fairy-flight's afterglow.
Wednesday, April 10, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: love,memory
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4/28/2024 10:49:44 PM # 1.0.0.1119
