Mesmerized by true blue eyes
And brooding sighs; December skies
Tossed with free will beneath the hill
Where still and sleek, the river lies
And I am wont to drink the taunt
Of brook-fern haunt; unlearned, the vaunt
Of wanderlust where this I must;
Trample lanes laced with diamond dust
For soon staid sweep of deep to deep
Will lie asleep ‘neath snow-crowned keep
Then I will bide its eventide
In company of fireside
So captivated, I must go
To touch and taste the ebbing flow
Of lonely skies and brooding sighs
Mesmerized by December eyes
Emily of New Moon called it a 'flash'.
I call it a rush...
that inspires instant poetry!