She speaks the language of wind
only the children of sibyls can hear
in the susurrus of her rich sylvan hair
fluttering in the sweet soft twilight
with the scarlet hues of sunset
lingering in the west of the sun.
By
She speaks the language of wind
only the children of sibyls can hear
in the susurrus of her rich sylvan hair
fluttering in the sweet soft twilight
with the scarlet hues of sunset
lingering in the west of the sun.
Listen, World 🌏 ⭐️🧚♀️ 
You must be logged in to post a comment.