Stumbling into moonlit mansions avoiding the evening breeze
I rustle the leaves stuck to the shutter by the hard harvest rain
The chandelier chides the forest that bravery put asunder
A fountain is gurgling passive droplets forging a soft striped plane
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She will meet the harvest princess as she continues her travels I liked these words.
This poem I wrote at the age of only 21. I remember the fall that I wrote this. I was in my last year studying at the Juilliard. I also am a composer of many different styles of music. I want to read more of your poetry. I am very busy at the moment but I will try to find some stolen moments. Thank you for your great interest in my work. Greetings, Paul