Counted Glory

shane durbec
Alas, I watched in counted glory
your sweet breath upon the cold winter morn'
the mists of white winds sing your story
for love's trumpets blare of capturing warn
fair plight is weighted by the fleeting of fair thought
and the soul caresses life as new born
fair feelings give 'way to the gusts of love's lessons taught
bestowing tarnished glass jewels to love's adorn

Published by shane durbec

Writing for years.  View profile

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