Hear Me
And anon... I awaken wrapped up in the embrace of only the distant cold moon upon my face.
Do her cold beams shine somewhere down on thee,and yet again ,I hunger and want someone I have never met..at least not in this lifetime.And so I write in eager hopes of tugging at someone memory or..a word or sentence will be familiar.
Perhaps an ancient soul will shake off its long sleep and hear me.
The wind is cold this night, and is all too familiar as it caresses my cheek, mocking thy once warm hand there.
My gaze falls to a clearing in the woods, a huge English oak ,ancient and worn stands in the middle.If you should read this..this place is always in my dreams.
And i believe to be in yours as well.The date is 1500 to 1600's, United Kingdom.We did much business here,at this old tree, all our met family here, some died here on this piece of ground.The shape of the branches and tree itself should stir some memories.I bid u a most fond adieu.
Copywritten and not to be reprinted without the express permission of the author.
Nocturnis Orchid
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