When

 

When ‘last the light escapes night drear,

Tis then morn’ stands upon the mountain.

And jocund day waits, tiptoe, for intent;

While promise ‘pends upon the balance.

 

When Yore consumes the unsullied year

With rash and tainted fervor,

‘Tis then foreboding haunts the darkness

And muses wait upon the morrow.

 

When twilight ‘parts with fleeting shadow

And dark descends like the immortal cowl

Then my soul sighs deep and long

For the loss of all it once held dear. 

Reviews

[Patrick O'Neil]

Such a nice write and smart use of images. Like this line"‘Tis then foreboding haunts the darkness, and Then my soul sighs deep and long",It lingers in the heart and mind.

[Morgan728]

Thank you so very much Ptx :)

[Patrick O'Neil]

You are welcome. :)