And the crimson pall of eve may fall
From the depth of Heaven above,
With wings folded I rest, on mine aery nest,
As still as a brooding dove.
And the crimson pall of eve may fall
From the depth of Heaven above,
With wings folded I rest, on mine aery nest,
As still as a brooding dove.
His sleep Was aery light, from pure digestion bred.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories