Virgin Tears
Hail the form of formless winds
To utter woes that falls from limbs
Marvel at the fall of leaves
That gather on the virgin breeze
Caress the morn that bathes the sun
Collapse beneath the tidal hum
Forlorn lovers, in whispers speak
For tenderness in which they keep
Say it with and wane of heart
With virgin tears in which we part
Solemn vestige in forms it parts
And then the passage of thine heart
Quill thy hand thy sling of bows
And there are notions in the throws
Twain the heart has known such rhythms
More entrance in my misgivings
Slain the tongues of feeble man
With that notion understand
The grains of sand, like tears in part
Virgin tears by which I part
Art & Poetry By Darryn John Murphy
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Copyright © Darryn John Murphy