let misty evening be my shroud
soft tendrils drifting cool and dim
where only angels are allowed
where mourning trees stand ever proud
a nightjar’s song the only hymn
let misty evening be my shroud
unearthly treasures are endowed
to those who tread this pathway grim
where only angels are allowed
go softly where the bluebells crowd
lit azure by day’s dying rim
let misty evening be my shroud
falter not though head is bowed
to find this place as senses dim
where only angels are allowed
yet hearts are singing strong and loud
such is the world of cherabim
let misty evening be my shroud
where only angels are allowed
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(the form of this poem is a villanelle)
I am anticipating the time I will make to read more of your poetry and view more of your art.
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I hope that you will. I have been writing only a short while so any feedback would be helpful.
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