Sashka Salvatore Poems

Once upon a time of timid mists and snows
Lay a hill so woebegone,
The qualms and anguish it had brought
Had all his torments done.
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Interviewer:

Wherefore hast thou dwelt in the lethal years
And have thy steady feet brought thee to drenching tears?
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Come little children I'll take thee away
into a land of Enchantment

Come little children the time's come to play
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If the night is that which your chest's foretold
Then let me surrender to it with all that I behold.
My undoubted saviour, t'is you that I seek
And in swarthy waves I found you - holding one so weak.
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