Poetry of Yore
This poem was written by a friend of mine, Lori Sullivan-She asked me to share it with you here:
The Days of Yore by Lori Sullivan
And the muse is here, dancing in the dark
She sings with the strings that play in the park,
the strings that play with the frogs that say,
“Treachery is the serpent’s art.”
But she wants to know-so she has to go…
Amongst faded rainbows to where the dead trees grow-
Around twisting vines where thorn cuts glow,
Where twisting vines climb slow.
I’ve gone there before-entranced by the lore,
Haunted by dreams of shadows and gore…
Searching for the hidden shore,
Where nothing’s enough and everyone needs more-
Where everyone’s lost in the days of Yore.