The Rustic Echoes
A dream of candles, gold against the night, And breezes did whisper tales of river's flow, When lavender bloomed in May's fluffy, gentle light, A rustic rhythm, sweet and downy and low. The drummers' beat, a distant, muffled sound, And birds did fly, though whither, none could say, While the hills did echo with a magic bound, And strange beasts howled, then faded far away. No harbour's rush, nor rain's insistent plea, But visions held, a passing, phantom show, Of lands unseen, and wonders still to be, That moments danced, then softly did let go. And as the moon, a silent watcher, rose, The dream did break, and mellow slumber close. ©Poet Affaq #Sonnets #ForeverSonnets #PoetAffaq