Upon the clouds that are these thoughts,
Such love as I might have is borne
To where you are. And yet, you must
At least but feel them evanesce —

The gentle wind that blows your hair,
The briefest sunshine on your skin:
These are the hopes I send your way,
To then turn into health and

Happiness

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s