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Chimes
Beneath a veil of ivory; in a capella was a treasury of beating chimes - the sweet refrains of her marrow. From the alcove a her soul; breathed a concession of consolatory affections. Ardent was her tender, sentimental heart. Within her spirits vessel; beckoned by either jubulience or melancholy - in hues of red or blue; it bled
Published 25th Dec 2018
| Edited 27th Jan 2019
Author's Note
Copyright ©
I just hate holidays. I saw the picture and the words struck. It's pretty much suitable for me regardless though.
I just hate holidays. I saw the picture and the words struck. It's pretty much suitable for me regardless though.
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25th Dec 2018 7:34pm
a delicious winter festival feast of words...lyrical embroidery at its most delightful...
26th Dec 2018 6:08am
26th Dec 2018 12:35pm
27th Dec 2018 00:16am
26th Dec 2018 2:13pm
Eloquence just seems to flow in your poems. The treasury of beating chimes is brilliant.
27th Dec 2018 00:17am
