In parchment's embrace, a story unfurls, A letter, a vessel for heart's soft whirls. In ink's delicate dance, emotions abide,
By Ashiii2 years ago in Poets
In the hush of the cold, winter's breath, When the moon casts its silver sheath, The world seems to pause, in a quiet repose,
In the quiet hours of dusk, he stands, A guardian strong, with weathered hands. His eyes, like beacons, guiding light,
In the quiet moments of reflection, Where gratitude finds its gentle inception, There lies a sentiment, pure and true,
In the vast expanse where dreams take flight, The canvas of blue stretches, infinite and bright. Above the world, where birds and clouds roam free,
In the darkest night, a flicker bright, Hope, a beacon, guiding light. Through shadows deep, it softly gleams, A whispered promise in silent dreams.
In the cradle of dawn, her tender embrace, A beacon of love, her gentle grace. With hands that soothe, and eyes that see,
In fields of gold, where wildflowers sway, There danced a girl with eyes like day. Her laughter rang like silver bells,
In the tapestry of life, friends are the threads, Binding our hearts in the loom of shared dreams. Through the highs and lows, their presence steads,
In the quiet of dawn, where whispers reign, Peace unfurls its gentle, silken skein. A tapestry woven with threads of light,
In the realm of dreams where stars align, And aspirations soar, where hearts entwine, There lies a path, both winding and steep,
In vaults of steel, it gleams and gleams, The currency of dreams, of schemes, A force that drives the world's extremes,
