Dlowan wrote:-
Quote:it is like the virgin ice on the lake, that lures you to skate ever further and further in the glorious moonlight - following the moontrail and the snapping reflection of the stars into another, frozen, mystical reality - then crazes under your blades, and plunges you into the icy waters beneath, to drown, and be discovered, frozen, with your face looking up to the stars, cursing the beauty that lured you to your doom.
Thats really nice, do you like this ?
The browns, the olives, and the yellows died,
And were swept up to heaven; where they glowed
Each dawn and set of sun till Christmastide,
And when the land lay pale for them, pale-snowed,
Fell back, and down the snow-drifts flamed and flowed.
From off your face, into the winds of winter,
The sun-brown and the summer-gold are blowing;
But they shall gleam with spiritual glinter,
When paler beauty on your brows falls snowing,
And through those snows my looks shall be soft-going.
