Tia Attwood


Summer Morning - Poem by Tia Attwood

The sound of Summer's sweetest fife
as dawn's soft golden lashes rise
like Heaven's gate; at afterlife
the sound of Summer's sweetest fife
throughout our carousel of life
the sound of Summer's sweetest fife
as Dawn's soft golden lashes rise.

Topic(s) of this poem: poem

Form: Triolet


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, January 27, 2016

Poem Edited: Thursday, January 28, 2016


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