I, gaze towards the cold and desolate moon,
listen to whispers wafted by lingering wind.
Scattering sweet visions lead round a street,
I, couldn’t decide whether feeling or dream.

And though love wore mask of drifting mist,
I, reached out and offered unwavering hand.
My heart is a ghost town, like a rose in sand.

 

 

Photo credits: Pixabay

Posting for “Flash 55 Plus” @ Real Toads

Posted on Poetry Pantry @ Poets United

& on Monday Writes @ My Blog – Verses

verses