A walk
under the arcades
the imagination
with flower tendrils
a beguiling
philharmonic
imbued
of sunbeams
with glistening light
a symphony
reflecting your self
bedded on
fragrant reason
guides the senses
to the mouth
its syllables
gently breathy
spring from a source
those with fervor
sing with passion
a song
that never dies
the sweet as ice
on the tongue melts
as the sparks
in the blazing heart
smoulders
and never gets old
a fantasy
which lives under arcades
a passion
on the velvet
Throne lives
that never withers
on the walks
pulls around the houses
a pure reflection
yours
that binds you
in the light
with soft silk
the eyes closed.
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© Floy Dy Ra,05.18.2019
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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