I adore you, the nights of Easter.
At them like every branch is burned
Writong of all my sins is missed now.
And the scroll to the shreds is torn.
...
Read full text
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
Earth seems boundless, time seems endless, A very good thoughtful poem.