Her Telyn

It was way out on the edge of the fair,
She sat, playing her telyn;
And I stood, transfixed

Watching her hands move

Listening to sound like
Wind,
and
Waves

The day is new, and
The year is still young;
Still, at times, we realize
We all have some sort of thirst
For the old well’s water

Tagged: Tags

Leave a Reply