Richard Allen Beevor

Gold Star - 5,570 Points (23 March 1949 / London)

The Hour And The Moment - Poem by Richard Allen Beevor

The hour and the moment stirred,
aloft on air the winged bird.

False echoes shudder down the vale,
call forth the soulful nightingale.

March to the time of seasons past,
the hour and the moment driven fast.

Where the centre tree had grown,
by the river seeds are thrown.

Buds that bloom under yellow sun,
the hour and the moment just begun.

Topic(s) of this poem: abstract

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, January 18, 2015

Poem Edited: Monday, October 30, 2017

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