A Sonnet
Let the sweet dreams of night
Caress parts of your body,
Let the tenderest moonlight
Give a faint smile to you,
Let the thoughts from your head
Slip away very fast,
And wherever they travel
Let them bury the past.
Let your mind think ahead
When your cheeks may still flush,
And the forehead begins
Feeling suddenly blush…
And the end of the road
Seems, that’s why, direct
When the lady returns
To your cosy bed…
The Answer to the Muse
© Copyright: Анна Трусова, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №212011901313
Свидетельство о публикации №212011901313
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