pen-sketched

He halts his midnight wings
And rests his tired claws
On the slacked telephone wire
By the old street far north
Gazing fondly through the mist
At his pen-sketched impending dawn
Which, partial to the world,
Would leave him and fellow storms
In their paint-less, grey-scale paradise.

T. E. Pyrus

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Painting Memories

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I’ve seen the fiercely joyful constellations in your eyes,
Bright with wonder of the wandering starlight in the skies…

When you forget the fleeting moments in our golden autumn light
With your dreams that lay beside me in the quiet and starry night,

I’ll string our breezy laughter, twinkling crystal-still like stone,
We’ll watch sunsets paint the sea while I build sandcastles alone.

We’ll build that summer cottage, not too near the salty shore
And greet that snowman who’ll await you every christmas at our door.

I’ll fill my nights with legends ere I lose our mortal lie,
So we’ll live again in tales ‘neath the ever-starry sky.

T. E. Pyrus

[Featured image is the artwork of batensan. All rights belong to the artist.]
P.S. Thank you, batensan, for letting me borrow your art!