Burning noon, it is midnight.
The indigo fields lie open all while.
Zest in stone, face the rocky height,
Wild roses springing from sand.
The white ocean is ever so restive,
The night’s just fallen asleep.
And the moon is awake still.
Eclipsed in total radiance,
The dreamer wakes up.
Bleary eyed.
O Dreamer of the Night
ReplyDeletetraveller of the fathomless sky
Dive into the ocean white
and reach the quiet spot
Midnight will pass
Hmmmmmm. quite a thought.
ReplyDeleteJust started blogging
ReplyDeleteMy blog please chk it out
nice blog
ReplyDelete.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ...
ReplyDeleteAnd;finds Her Soul mirrored in 'mist-Blue'of indigo fields!
ReplyDeleteThen.........,a forgotten hymn starts flowing.
Blissfully 'The Noon'gets its destined 'Meaning'.
The Above posting was me.
ReplyDeleteIs it ok;I am asking you all.Thanks