This blog is dedicated to all things simple, old, serene, classical, and romantic. It is an attempt to recapture the simplicity of days gone by, when happiness could be found in simply lying in the grass and writing poetry. In honor of the years that came before us, and in hope of reclaiming a bit of their simplicity, I dedicate "That We Were Butterflies." WELCOME!


"Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music - do I wake or sleep?"
~ John Keats

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Sonnet 3

Sonnet to Sleep
Oh, sweet eleison night, you promise sleep
with silver moon orb'd bright within her sphere;
and dreams that come to sleepers slumb'ring deep
- so lost within their realm away from fear.
The Muse of Dreaming enters through the eyes
so gently closing lids and hiding light:
her voice, in whispered song, will hypnotize
and bring her happy sleepers sweet delight.
The darkling night is fleeting and does fly
into the rosy hue of morning's spell;
the night is delicate and swiftly dies
and morning creeps in rooms where dreamers dwell.
Oh, gentle Muse that charms the world to yawn
why won't you come to me before the dawn?!

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