Here me now see me how? I am as cold as the wind clouds inside this clear glass skin.
The weavers of dreams complete of this night time and ask
that you to move on and ride on
into a heathland of light and silver masque
dancing in melody that sigh around a starlight bough
Stepping in moonlight shoaled in hope and fast
calming the conquered eye
from your wishes that at a glance lie surpassed
on your secret silvered mount
embarking a pearled quest quietly grasped
in cantered music this rhythm of secret wrong
up and down to the old one's song
in beds that last lost in the ages of sweetly smelling and secret heart song
Their cries as night birds silvered and frosted
the faces as moon in wax and concern
for you and your lover captured, silent, return
© Copyright 2016 Ken Simm. All rights reserved.
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