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A Drift of Song
Excerpt from A Drift of Song
The Unseen Crown
If sharpest thorns I wove a crown
And threw away each fragrant leaf,
"When on his brow this settles down,"
I said, "oh, great his grief."
I hung it in my chamber where,
When it were needed, I could find,
"Mine enemy this thing shall wear."
I said, for I was blind.
He came at last; I took my thorns
And crowned him with a bitter vow,
When, lo! as on fair summer morns
They blossomed on his brow.
The Unseen Crown
If sharpest thorns I wove a crown
And threw away each fragrant leaf,
"When on his brow this settles down,"
I said, "oh, great his grief."
I hung it in my chamber where,
When it were needed, I could find,
"Mine enemy this thing shall wear."
I said, for I was blind.
He came at last; I took my thorns
And crowned him with a bitter vow,
When, lo! as on fair summer morns
They blossomed on his brow.
66 pages, Hardcover
Published April 22, 2016
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