That Fabled Woman

Poem By Mark Laing

Upon a dream of marble purity
When the sweet flute filled the air
And the world sang with alacrity
Without trace of drudge or care
That fabled woman came to me
From the depths of golden azurity
And all my dreams came to be
In a world of marble purity.

Comments about That Fabled Woman

Short but deliciously sweet. Only one thing puzzling me - golden azurity? Love, Fran xx
A nice dreamy dream: -)


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