Saturday, 14 February 2009

She Sleeps

She does not walk
But cuts a swathe
A fountain of beauty, for my eyes to bathe

She does not talk
But softly sings
Each syllable sweetly rings


She does not cry
But weeps

She did not die

She sleeps.
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2 comments:

  1. Jampo14 February 2009 at 21:54

    Nicer indeedx

    ReplyDelete
  2. Anonymous16 February 2009 at 09:26

    Ian, you are indeed a bard; never let anyone (inclusing yourself) doubt it.

    La squirrelle x

    ReplyDelete

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