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by T.P. Wilkinson / November 28th, 2021
Bend the stormy wave
To catch the fallen rain, hear the sudden sigh To still the spoken word, the bloodied sword to sheathe Too late, hold the silent sunrise bend the stormy wave but not, upon a child to smile.
This article was posted on Sunday, November 28th, 2021 at 8:03am and is filed under Poetry.