Slumber Sweet
The dew that rests on maidens fair
and sweetest breath of dawn.
The haunting coo of dove of morn
with night's cool crispness gone.
How might a newborn see the world,
is like the freshness of new day.
The fairies trod from slumber sweet
to greet the warmth and ray.
Whyfor they, then, lie still at last?
And move not to awaken?
The simple beauty, tiny forms,
the sandman's wrath hath taken.
©1998 S.Waugh(bronx)
Reason for writing:
Austin inspird me.
Birth sign: Not entered
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