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Untitled
The stars are crying now,
With a song I cannot hear.
There I stood in daydreams
When Heaven was new.
I read it long ago in a tale,
Dead flowers perfumed pages.
I saw it in a photograph—
But time took the color away.
The dead—I feel I am them all,
The weight of dark millenia.
So many tears, and so many walls.
You laid my head on a moonbeam,
Placed a robin to sing on my breast
When the frost webs over me
And I am sleeping.
Tell me time will wake me,
When Heaven has grown old.
© 2018 Marten Hoyle
With a song I cannot hear.
There I stood in daydreams
When Heaven was new.
I read it long ago in a tale,
Dead flowers perfumed pages.
I saw it in a photograph—
But time took the color away.
The dead—I feel I am them all,
The weight of dark millenia.
So many tears, and so many walls.
You laid my head on a moonbeam,
Placed a robin to sing on my breast
When the frost webs over me
And I am sleeping.
Tell me time will wake me,
When Heaven has grown old.
© 2018 Marten Hoyle
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