Right there in the golden hour
is where I want to stay
In the midst of speckled flowers
to rest, my head will lay
My dreams will grow a little warmer
my nightmares left in the hour blue
I can finally let down my armour
and take on a softer hue
Be sure not to look for me
around the starkest light
I don't know where I'll be
but it won't be in sight.
YOU ARE READING
Old Words
PoetryA collection (and selection) of my old poetry. If you want to read some of my more recent work, check out The Magic Of Poetry, An Abundance Of Haiku or Bright.
