beneath the rowans

 

 

from the wide sea the rain rolls in,
grey veils along the valley spread,
upon the ridge the wild trees grow,
and shades beneath the rowans rest.

there lies the warrior and the child,
who sleep the sleep of a thousand years,
and dream again of the life they had,
in memories and moments clear.

still they come the visions strong,
of loves and homes and children raised,
for no eternity of sleep
can unweave the dreaming weft of days.

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