A Midwinter Night’s Dream
Wrested years have acquiesced,
when two lorn souls were sorest,
yet our love still effloresced,
in winter’s leafless forest.
I wrote this poem in the form of an Ae Freislighe.
Wrested years have acquiesced,
when two lorn souls were sorest,
yet our love still effloresced,
in winter’s leafless forest.
I wrote this poem in the form of an Ae Freislighe.