Crocus Bell

by beeseeker

The light that was low, cool
Edge of butter white
Grows a burned orange frame;
Like a greedy flame
Burning a hole in virgin silk.

“Sin, sin, sin!”
Cries the sunset violin.
Purple warriors, with wood,
Wire and song
Answer the call of the
Bronze crocus bell.

7 Comments to “Crocus Bell”

  1. really liked this…

  2. Hello to one and all and many thanks for your positive comments, which are greatly appreciated.
    Alongside which a big thanks to Harry for giving us this platform.

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