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Ballad
Wildland wind's mystic dance
of icy fingers that caress your face
when you trespass beyond midnight
with glistening Gemini
who point you to slumber in wooly clouds.
A dreamer's limbo, this sleepless world,
watching the sandman strew his pearly dust.
You play as a poet, contemplating each idiom,
a lust without love and a love without lust.
A sailor's ballad, this innocence obscured
by the tragedy of drowning within your dream. You act as a cantor, imagining each kyrie,
an echo of city-glow upon a curling stream.
Your voice cascades
like the fohn that sweeps
through this starlit zone.
The nylon strings that quietly sing
can make these moments feel less alone.
#writco #WritcoQuote #poetry #Love&love
of icy fingers that caress your face
when you trespass beyond midnight
with glistening Gemini
who point you to slumber in wooly clouds.
A dreamer's limbo, this sleepless world,
watching the sandman strew his pearly dust.
You play as a poet, contemplating each idiom,
a lust without love and a love without lust.
A sailor's ballad, this innocence obscured
by the tragedy of drowning within your dream. You act as a cantor, imagining each kyrie,
an echo of city-glow upon a curling stream.
Your voice cascades
like the fohn that sweeps
through this starlit zone.
The nylon strings that quietly sing
can make these moments feel less alone.
#writco #WritcoQuote #poetry #Love&love
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