February 21st, 2011 by Magdalena Tabor
Bequeathe to me
Bejeweled skies,
The Milky Aqua
When it dies,
The Rose Gold Rim
Of sleeping eye,
The star upon its head.
The Smokey Quartz
Of quarried creek,
The opalescence
Of its cheek,
None more precious
Need I seek,
The crown it wears to bed.


Share and Enjoy:
  • Digg
  • StumbleUpon
  • Facebook
  • Twitter

Leave a Reply