Amidst The Grass (Sonnet 23)
Amidst the grass beneath the misty sky,
by Jez C Brul
A teardrop falls like fire in heaven's hell;
For soon a great great love shall ever die,
As when a church indicts it's last, last bell.
My heart sans blithe seeing you standing there;
In abyss of despair, some words subside.
Your dewy feet inflict a hidden fear,
Behind the cliffs where ruffling waves collide.
From a distance, your voice still echoing,
Whispering like autumn breeze on sullen earth,
Till then the mist awaits a lark from singing,
The morning rain shall stop a heart from death,
But when you're gone in twilights empty hall,
'Tis time to kiss on winged clay of fall.
©️2018, Jez Brul, All Rights Reserved