Cold Offering Poem by Monarchist Oleg
Cold Offering
Foxes run to their holes.
Birds fly to their nests.
Babies crawl to their mothers
With every sunset.
My desire for you comes back to me,
With the promise of a new day.....
To try again..
I sleep,
Secretly silently wishing you,
Dream of me at the heart of a goodnight.
Very nicely and wisely said, promise of a new day brings new hopes to light. Thank you for sharing. RoseAnn
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4/19/2024 12:33:27 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Solid composition! A job well done!