You changed a cup with code of not your spring
For tea that got to be diluted with a fog.
But taste is not just sharing a minute
With fogey time that's checked in every drop.
With firsty, lightly sad two sounds of door's bell -
To enter drawing-room with broken draw of flowers.
The colors of not yours possess the shade of bowl
With mirrors on the floor and share of white ruff.
Plutarhos had no aim to register the fact.
Among his fifty lifes not one life that's exact.
But power unconstrained leads aim to be enduced
To get its own from fluke... Front figure of one's cruise.
An Effigy by scales of X
© Copyright: Юлия Пескова 26, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124071204694
Свидетельство о публикации №124071204694
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