08/09/2006
the bars***
Hollows in walls with men of ancient art
calm my rivers, swollen in pits of ruin.
I call on seas and ranges built of gold.
Call on me when stars are vacant,
when skies spill over in your cup.
Tea will tell you all I know,
so count on them to cheer you.
Call on me when times are rough
and waves crash on rock.
There I'll be in scapes of blue
Silent and waiting,
I'd call on you.
posted by christen roberts @ 7:52 AM
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