The Sunset of December

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I was up high in the sunset of December

with shadows of tree limbs covering

and hawk wings flying over,

giving me a wild feeling untamed

yet I turned back to the valley

having surrendered, with dreams

of a hot cup of tea,

and My Love cooking

some spicy noodles.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Note: Sometimes small things are more beautiful.

The Night of Dragons

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Fur coated dragons drifted into the kingdom during the night, along with a fresh coat of ice.

Snow swirled from time to time, giving a false sense of innocence to the difusion of light.

Yet the dragons only carried a holy fire, so the people were not afraid when the fires broke out.

They had waited so very long for deliverance, from leaders gone rogue, only the guilty were burned.

The people were sober, it was not a time to rejoice, but they knew what the dragons had done, was right.

And the fur coated dragons returned to their kingdom, in the cover of night. The ice remained, yet silent.

Snow swirled from time to time, giving a false sense of innocence.

     

Writing and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

In the Summer Fog

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Ghosts shimmer in the shifting shadows

of the summer fog,

lamenting of losing their former glory

seeking to escape……

the absence of flesh or at least

to explain their plight

to a willing writer, walking

in the woods unafraid.

If you stand perfectly still……

they will sense

your heartbeat.

       

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies