Nothing Matters To The Dead

Amazing poetry by a talented writer.

My Own Avalon

Flying on the wings of a dreamy mist
I sigh, close my eyes and smile
I am off to live and not just exist
a scent of velvet night, so fragile

I just don`t know what makes me wake up
to this indifferent world and dirty rain
I let my mind wander as I fill my coffee cup
getting ready to walk with the dead again

… For the humming of flies and smell of roses
and the seagulls flight over water`s deep
For the shades of the green trees that poses
and roar of waterfalls that never sleep

For shady glades and sunny hills
and golden fields where we have run
For the joy of a child playing by the mills
with the taste of raspberry on her tounge

For the moons reflection in the river
swept over the spear of a lonely church
For the morning dew droplets…

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