Passing Memory in the Night

A Dream of Writing

Passing Memory in the Night

 

Wind fleeting rushes with the witch through night

Faces pass softly flashing in the tent

Eager hands clasp a weak unsteady light

Flaring wildly after her your flame leant

 

She lingers to look into eyes which spark

See your burning flame and hear your true name

She loves how you make shift away the dark

Knows that nothing can ever be the same

 

Flames lively flare to whisper “I am yours”

Waver “Cannot lose you in blinding day”

Turns halo of ginger and blue colours

And under eyes the hazy shadows sway

 

Their eyes alight through radiances send

Twinkle that all they wished for was a friend

In ‘Passing Memory in the Night,’ the literary device of imagery allows the reader to perceive the sight of the rushing motion of the witch, “eyes which spark,” the colours of ginger and blue…

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