The Painting
P
Patricia Gale
0
Altın Yaprak
Drawn into the canvas
No matter which way I turned
It was calling to me
Take me home
Make me yours
La Belle Dame Sans Merci
Mysteriously, haunting beckoning me
Captivated by the beautiful colors
From the words of Keats
To my wall
She, the steed and the knight of arms
The power to turn an eye
A control to possess
Consuming my mind like a raging stream
Oh brilliant poet of past what were you dreaming?
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş