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When the lights are low
Mists of the nights are slowly gliding,
Visible to my eyes as i blink,
My throbbing chest, confiding
Dreams of fair visions to sink
When the City, snores while sleeping
Perhaps the ghosts runs around creeping
Suddenly the clothes; As a watcher they appear,
As the midnight hour is near
But while hitting the spot of dreaming
There prevails a silent night
Again the heart is fond of rhyming same beats
Cold night, prevails not heat
Not silent, but an ocean
The secrets that the tides produces
The tones that the myths played
Sighs echos the forest spruces
Adds me to the sweet serenade!
© fredicancompose
#writco #writcoapp #writco #WritcoQuote
Visible to my eyes as i blink,
My throbbing chest, confiding
Dreams of fair visions to sink
When the City, snores while sleeping
Perhaps the ghosts runs around creeping
Suddenly the clothes; As a watcher they appear,
As the midnight hour is near
But while hitting the spot of dreaming
There prevails a silent night
Again the heart is fond of rhyming same beats
Cold night, prevails not heat
Not silent, but an ocean
The secrets that the tides produces
The tones that the myths played
Sighs echos the forest spruces
Adds me to the sweet serenade!
© fredicancompose
#writco #writcoapp #writco #WritcoQuote
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