Amber canals spill blissful purity,
sewing ground below the glass.
Stirring her from emerald dreams,
weaving rust through lemongrass.
You awoke the slumbered doe,
shrouded her in sheets of light,
Poisoned her with bitter snow,
Darling, don't be so polite.
I've found and posted on some of your earlier posts, and I didn't know if you received notification of new comments. Have a good evening, my young friend.
ReplyDeleteLiving in Eastern Oregon, we are just crawling with little does like this one. I'v never seen such a beautiful poem about one. I am totally awe struck, by these grand words of yours! Thank you so very much! You have a marvelous talent don't ever stop!
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