Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Sullen Paradise

Somber cross the whitest sand
Combing cross the driest land.
See only what is and what may be,
As the horizons span indefinitely.
Catch the oceans' gentle breeze,
Mind, body, soul, at ease.
But hath so, we can not stay,
As the mold drop off upon this day.

1 comment:

  1. A recent work of mine, what is your sullen paradise?