The misty Blue Lagoon
In the mist is the Blue Lagoon,
and right above it sets the moon.
In the mist I feel the breezy air,
a tickeling and combing feeling blowing through my hair.
The mist smells of a sweet fragrance,
making the night more at stance.
As the mist begins to lay,
it sets aside for another day.
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Dream the End of Time | 0 | 01/25/2011 |
| Dazed and Confused | 2 | 10/13/2009 |
| The misty Blue Lagoon | 0 | 10/13/2009 |
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