No More The Morning Rain.

No more the morning rain
so high upon a hill
below as if in dream
cut confetti cast clean
uniting bride and groom
the wedding afternoon
her silken satin gown
slipped along the ground
silently without sound.

No more the morning rain
there high upon the hill
below revealed a scene
once happy they'd all seemed
I saw them standing there
waving arms through the air
shedding tears without care
was more than they could bear
bleak future without her.

No more the morning rain
from high on top the hill
beneath the sun lit Queen
whose ashen robes...unseen
and thus began her reign
indifferent to pain
wicked reckless rival
I fought for survival
that day a top the hill

by Gill Shaw

Comments (1)

Enjoyed reading this well written poem, hope that will will be contributing more. Thank you for sharing.