Aug 25, 2006 00:18
the sun beith not hot and bright,
nor hidden, dark, and cold,
but in between,
2 hours before the eve,
where content it stays,
and content i remain.
for i beith not bright with joy,
radiant in my wonders,
nor lost and cold,
hidden in my blunders.
but lingering between,
the limbo of emotions,
where "content" is but the only word i know to apply.
but my feelings are my own and certainly yours must differ.
doth your sun shine or hide? your trees flourish or wither?
(and yes i am expecting replies)
i shall retreat to my chambers soon, and dream of golden morrows, as the sun doth sleep shall i, and awaking lose all sorrows. for although my days content, i hope for better morrows, when the sun shines bright again, and it's warmth shall i borrow. thou must sleep and dream of dreams to keep thine golden morrows, for as thine sun doth shine this day, the morrows may bring sorrows. so long as you have thine golden dreams, the sorrows last short morrows, and as the sun doth set, it shall rise again, and thou wilst have most beautiful of morrows.