It was a dream of silver sheen
falling from above.
A whispy cloud of softness
settling gentle as a dove.
A magical umbrella
capping mountains high.
A scene of breathless wonder
as this phenomenon meets the eye.
Slowly it descends,
clearing all that’s in its wake
spreading across the mountain
like the icing on a cake.
As gentle as a snowflake,
it kisses the topmost peak.
This eerie vision of beauty
a place to rest does seek.
Soon in condensation,
as day turns into night,
this vision of fantasia
will disappear from sight.
© Copyright B J Woods
Todos los derechos pertenecen a su autor. Ha sido publicado en e-Stories.org a solicitud de James Woods.
Publicado en e-Stories.org el 17.08.2004.
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