The longest night,
a cool dark mist
descending ever slow;
the season journeys inward
where nothing green will grow;
we lift our cups,
embrace our young,
and sing them soft to sleep,
as melancholy
lurks within,
and day returns at last.
1Sagefemme All Rights Reserved 2016
Of maidens, mothers, and crones; a life in poetry, unfinished 
This didn’t even come up in Wp reader, damn thing.
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I hope you are okay, I have not seen you writing on here in a long time, I hope everything is all right. You are missed.
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Thank you so much😊 I’ve been hibernating, but spring is coming soon.
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Just so long you are okay and you know you are missed and cared about then that’s okay and I shall wait to see you again xo Be well lovely friend xo
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xo
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Big hug and good luck you can do it!
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Reblogged this on Orthometry.
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