Erewhon round night of mists and dreams; bade herbs
and spice to shade the room. Guerrero born with blush
of morn; don nature with the fairest bloom.
“Oh sweet Guerrero garb with flair;
Let buds of marjoram adorn your hair.
Oh beauteous soul as briar rose;
Worth hundred spears and hundred bows.
Hazel trees spread far and wide;
Beneath thus time’s flowing tide.
Oh sweet Guerrero need not fear;
Have millions longing to revere.”
Erewhon burst with mirth and cheer; upon blessings
for their fairest dame. Envisioned glories half appear;
bade gifts of love and fruitful fame.
Lo! Stars tonight shall be so dear;
To lean and whisper into her ear.
Photo credits: fineartamerica.com
Happy Birthday Magaly ❤️
Posted on Dark Poetry for Cruellest Month
& Posted on Tuesday Platform @ Real Toads