Splendour Sleeps Poem by Scott Hastie
Splendour Sleeps
Splendour sleeps
In the thick still grey skies
Of a season's bleakness.
The steady muted glow of the sun,
Its sorry circle of gold
Highlighting the snow covered,
White-edged portrait
Of a winter's afternoon.
Inside the ashes of the fire
Burn red raw.
We talk and your eyes dance
In patterns of pleasure before me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 9:31:19 AM # 1.0.0.1119
