Without Season’s

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Abstract

eAnd then there are days such as the winters of my heartthe sky gazes at me, It is startledThe sky rolls by my praise, on the nimbus veils of contentment, the sky isbeauteously fair but only as beautiful as my reflectionAnd when the skies are brought to weeping, and the cleavage of its soul issplit in two, it thunders vainly, the beauty it sees is meThere would be no beauty, if the sky from

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its height did gaze down upon meIf my eyes filled with the midnight blue of wonderous spring esperas,did not reflect the thoughts of my enigmatic soul, across its elementalfacadeAnd then there are days, void of tranquil waters, without any season’s, whenthe skies are blindfolded — again, sometimes by me.Copyright ©. <a href="">R Tsambounieri Talarantas</a>. July 2020. All Rights Reserved.</article></body>

Without Season’s

There are days between a summers gale and the autumn rush

I stare at the sky, it is inquisitive

And then there are days such as the winters of my heart

the sky gazes at me, It is startled

The sky rolls by my praise, on the nimbus veils of contentment, the sky is

beauteously fair but only as beautiful as my reflection

And when the skies are brought to weeping, and the cleavage of its soul is

split in two, it thunders vainly, the beauty it sees is me

There would be no beauty, if the sky from its height did gaze down upon me

If my eyes filled with the midnight blue of wonderous spring esperas,

did not reflect the thoughts of my enigmatic soul, across its elemental

facade

And then there are days, void of tranquil waters, without any season’s, when

the skies are blindfolded — again, sometimes by me.