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The Wolves; They Sing.

Poem by: Enw Anhysbys

Summary

For sour are the berries on the bush.

Content

Submitted: January 24, 2012

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Content

Submitted: January 24, 2012

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Sing down the moon—O wolves of night,

For thou knows not thy power.

Yet keep me up—O wolves of night,

Past high moon and witching hour.

For thou hast made me one with land

And glad am I

For sour

Are the berries on the bush.

 

Bring up the sun—O wolves of day,

With thy chariots of graceful fire—

And make the light dance—O wolves of night,

So the firedancers may tire

As they wire with fire

For sour,

Are the berries on the bush.


© Copyright 2016 Enw Anhysbys. All rights reserved.

The Wolves; They Sing. The Wolves; They Sing.

Status: Finished

Genre: Poetry

Houses:

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Poetry

Houses:

Summary

For sour are the berries on the bush.

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