Friday, 8 June 2007

With The Dust Of Ages Hung

In the hall where floor boards creak
Through the tall doors
From the Street
A shaft of golden light is strung
With the dust of ages hung

Though nothing in the air is seen
There within this golden beam
There the dust of ages hung
Moving slowly in the sun

So it is in our daydream
Not all that is
Is always seen
Sometimes it takes a shadows line
To let the golden light define
All there is to see
More ways than one
Like the dust of ages hung


Egal Bohen


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