perhaps in a week
I will have time to write
perhaps a long drought
must come;
time is stolen
a season of work
deletes time slot
windows for words,
the words
as ever
will flow
through my soul,
but unpenned
unspoken words
must drift
lost in an eternity;
of no never
knowing eyes
to be read upon
recorded page...
Terence George Craddock (Afterglows Echoes Of Starlight)
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem