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![Image for the poem Sixpence Of Your Echo](/images/uploads/poemimages/477711.jpg?1679772505)
Sixpence Of Your Echo
Summer set on the autumn
neath the breath of the moon
now the trees are empty
as the leaves wrap the dew
I cry wrapped in my blanket
with a scent of you
unspeakable whisper
in the garden shade of twilight
worth sixpence of your echo
neath the breath of the moon
now the trees are empty
as the leaves wrap the dew
I cry wrapped in my blanket
with a scent of you
unspeakable whisper
in the garden shade of twilight
worth sixpence of your echo
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