daisy petals bind the piney forest needles where the wind forgot while I said love not to the hay scent’d sunset in the scythe made rows of the midnight lanes in the fallow moonlit fields where a white horse stays
Poetry
daisy petals bind the piney forest needles where the wind forgot while I said love not to the hay scent’d sunset in the scythe made rows of the midnight lanes in the fallow moonlit fields where a white horse stays