O wretched sunne why hid’st thy face so soone thou smil’st at dawn yet weep’st by afternoon one hour thou warm’st mine breeches faire and bright the next thou drown’st my hose in rain’s despight the wind doth blow like drunkard at the fair then stills as though he fell asleep mid-air O weather fickle […]
A ballade of wayward skies
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नवीनतम पोस्ट अपने ईमेल पर प्राप्त करने के लिए सदस्यता लें।
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