over the velvet rooftops of the night
I sailed my cloudy ship
into hidden moonlight
where are you I cried
at the window of my soul
frosted, as if for Christmas
candelight is down
the withered wreaths are gathered by the proud
while the tree in the attic tells stories
to the mice that forget their cheese for the moment...
little fir tree, I still love you
Hans Christian Anderson
over the velvet rooftops of the night
did we paper airplane sail your stories
over the griefs, over the griefs
of the sullen earth,
forever?
mary angela douglas 19 january 2014
No comments:
Post a Comment