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In The Gloaming... (a Cornish Sonnet
Folder:
Sonnets The villa of my mind is leather-bound...
a dog-eared, intimate anthology,
within the petaled pages, to be found
passages of ambrosial reverie;
Yet, stemmed, a rose's fragrant melody...
and time, the stoic gardener, holds the key.
As gentle gloaming falls... without a sound,
winds of transition swirling silently,
once fettered buds will blossom all around,
to fete abundance of serenity;
Poetic thoughts, unleashed, now wander free
to ride the wings of heart that define me.
The villa of my mind is leather-bound...
as gentle gloaming falls... without a sound.
© Ravenne
