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Shadow flowers of midnight.
She shimmered down the leaf lit lanes where only lonely night remains
and lit it’s shadows with a smile that made them linger for a while
her rustling silk soft whispered glow traced patterns on the sprinkled snow
between the leaves of Autumn gone,moon symphony’s of Winter shone
like angel wings upon the air, so beautifully fragile there
they trickled through unearthly skies like summer dreams with golden eyes
as restless breezes called again, through whistling reeds and wandering rain
yet still she searched between the hours, for midnights fragrant shadow flowers

her heart knew every secret glade, where every secret ever made
was vowed upon the moon and stars, but secrets can leave many scars
and vows can be such fickle things, that fade before the song thrush sings
of tiny hearts and newborn starts, a singer sings and then departs,
to leave her silent in the shade, so unaware of how dreams fade
into their own obscurity, for sometimes they are not to be
forerunners of her paper suns, just candle wax that melts and runs
down silver candelabra stands to burn the tired maiden’s hands.

She wandered to the harbour side to watch the waters softly glide
through flickering coloured neon swathes, so sensuous each moment bathes
illuminated everywhere those shadow flowers of midnight’s air
in rainbows of the deepest shade, the dancing bouquets that were made
before the rising of the dawn, upon her wings were flowers borne
to touch the final breath of night, like messengers of morning’s light
that touched her heart and breathed her name, then bathed in her eternal flame
and then she smiled from crystal eyes, and watched the morning slowly rise.

By 33whitby4654

© 2018 33whitby4654 (All rights reserved)


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