How the breeze wheedled a saint
To an old beauty witty-charming court
Where sages till tomorrow remaineth picnickers, in there thoughts
When drown, a picturesque
Even, though a times a cry
A times a whoop
Of how past tones of every merry-gone.
Odious time, oh, dotes on hat a fate it’s leap
Neither to make hearts rejoice
Nor is ‘t merrymaking showing.
Here i dies
Of how spark’d yesterday
A tomorrow’s dream, faded
Yesternight, it did not last
Here, enveloping sparkling ambition…
Odious time i ‘d hate ever
Odious time, of which tries to deny me always me
Odious time which made the beauty of yesterday not reach today
Which makes the memory of yesterday so murky
Odious time, i’m hating forever
Odium of time…
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.