Winter rain in my muse–like homeland
By: Pawel Markiewicz

the eyesome fay at the crack of dawn in winter
is weeping
the winter rain in the form of magnificent teardrops is dropping down
it is to be mesmerized in glaciated dreams of muses
the shepherd boy hears the falling of the more tender rain like meek tears

the docile Nixie by Christmas morning
is crying
the winter drops in terms of mignonne teardrops are falling down
it is becharmed in a snowy soul of muses
the child of a falconer tastes these Apollonianly meek drops

the meekly miraculous Siren at sunset glow
bawling
the winter snow – wonderfully tearling–shaped – falling down
it can be ensorcelled in frosted muse–like hearts
the druidical companion looks at flurries full weird of the tearlets

the magnanimous Sibyl at midnight in December
crying
the winter snow–rain – marvelously tearlet–shaped – falling to the ground
it's worth being enchanted in the hazy fantasy of the muses
the guardian of Winter Queen's touches some Herculean traces of the
rain

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