Is It Poetry
Mixed Light - Poem by Is It Poetry
When with hers light mixed made from his.
Houses made of glass, made with broken hands.
Somewhere it's heard called forth hence it is inward.
Beyond common reach of modern worldly ways.
Looking out therein from his, her limbs one from hangs.
Hers is golden open spread, above, below around, between.
Strange by they whom percieved not his ways.
And from those walls fashioned beneeth bright green leaves,
Thick ropes of vines sprout up from around it.
Comments about Mixed Light by Is It Poetry
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You