You hear me walking to the nightly bed,
For one more time I’m gazing onto you;
The moony light is paving way of dead -
The happiest’s a fool without a clue;
And be a fool or any what they call,
I never take my hand away from heart;
Though hard is night and pain’s the road to all,
The end as always promises a start;
You hear my talking to the evening’s red
And crimson downing of the weary sun;
For one more time I’m gazing onto bed
Of starry icicles of sky who spring n' run;
You hear me walking to the nightly bed
© Copyright: Томас Кромвель, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117090409419
Свидетельство о публикации №117090409419
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