The best of days
have the sky covered in grays
imbuing a haze
to drift amidst the sun's rays.
I can feel it now
sifting beneath the clouds
causing quite the row
yet it's calm somehow.
I'm going to sleep,
drooping off to a garish dream
where I can only keep
delighting to feen,
delving in deep;
I'm going to sleep.
- Samuel Richard Leonard
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem