My Words Of Comfort Poem by james watkin
My Words Of Comfort
Despair, bird, of broken wing
O'er congealed breast folded
To these rays of a fiat
Piercing skies, cloud-molded
Do hearken. To the 'fear not'
Of their resplendent hopes'
Golden cue. To the 'be of
Good cheer' also. Sun opes.
Saturday, June 22, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: sympathy
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5/24/2024 3:19:43 AM # 1.0.0.1119
