My Lady

my lady is still like the hill of old
my lady distinct like an act so bold
a tree of gold green in a land of sin
a tree so keen and determined to win
my lady is a dream i hold so through
for in the night she makes my dream true
and when thee morning comes she turns my skies blue
within her sphere my sinking soul leaps with joy
and with her within i feel like a boy


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Member Poet: Awasum Terrence Awasum | More poems by Awasum Terrence Awasum | Send PM
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