How many twinkles shall I count more?
How many more winds shall I hear howl?
How many more days shall myself bore?
How long till ice be freed from my soul?
August, spare me from the last laters,
Write me the new chapters I have longed,
Write the names of the new characters,
Write the new and the cures of past wronged,
I've kept ink and papers from freezing,
With the last of my hope's loving breeze,
But soon grows too warm, soon be burning,
How much suns and moons more, dear August?
YOU ARE READING
Interstellar Whispers: Volume 1
PoetryFORMERLY KNOWN AS: Poems of Petals by IamPDB Men and their offsprings had always found the time to wish to the twinkling children of the watchful silver eye of the night, before the goddess' spell befell their eyes. Little do they know, these twinkl...
