Weep No More My Beauty
Weep no more my beauty,
his voice comes to me in a midnight dream;
and up I float from my bed,
over trees and up into the clouds I follow his voice.
The air is chilly cold,
and I find myself in a cemetery;
vast with headstones row on row,
Empty with fog is the scene I behold,
until, he is walking towards me . . .
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January 17, 2018
Poetry/Verse/Weep No More My Beauty
Copyright Protected, ID 18- 1097-557-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
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