Listless Magic Singing within the Gilded Cage,
It’s Golden Bars A-shimmer in Secluded form,
Like Fortune Standing Mute Upon a Stage
While Blind and Deaf Parishioners to it swarm.
Paltry Hangs the Hour of Night in Shade,
It’s Ruddy Glimmer pale and out of Luster,
Like Majestic Dawn Beneath the storm Does fade,
While The Pouting Gales refuse to blow or bluster.
Upon this rusting Diadem, where Blush once Stood,
With Rose Hued Passion A-blaze in Fullest Glory,
Now hangs a cowl most drear, this graying hood,
Mute Testament to Time’s Tempestuous Story.
Yet in the Pallid Eye of this declining Glimmer,
Youth Retains Immortal Breath in Recollection’s Shimmer.
~Morgan~.
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Beautiful Photograph found at: awwproject.org
Poet's Corner 