ISO...II

by Byron Keith Mills - Not entered


From afar she now flies
Through the star shrouded skies,

Then faintly...she calls...

A restless soul in flight
(embracing the night)

And rides on the wind.



Faintly,

She calls once again!



. . . . . . . . . . .



With my eyes to the sky
To her voice...I must fly!

With this measure in mind
(now determined to find)



The Dark-Haired Angel in flight,



Through the star shrouded night...



              -the end?-



Reason for writing:

    Infatuation...for Ann...



    

Birth sign: Not entered
Date created: 1997-04-20 17:40:13
Last updated: 2021-03-03 14:39:24
Poem ID: 46937

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