Seasonal Heart
Quilly | August 11, 2006
Old Sol claims the sky
by day, sweetening the fruit
for the harvest moon;
in your eyes I long to see
a desire for my heart,
Leaves begin to turn,
soon the air grows crisp and chill,
the sun grows aloof;
but you gift me with no smile
and hope withers in my breast.
Snow blankets the ground,
breath hangs upon frigid air
and ice rules the [...]
O’Ceallaigh & The Quill
