I write of our dreams while I’m dreaming of writing.
In the thirteen moons, there is a treasure.
From the whispers of this city, the poets live forever.
And for everyone who asks receives, now the lovers lie-a-teepee.
To the sounds of harps, God’s gift ran free.
And there our love came to be…
3 thoughts on “Thirteen Moons”
Lovely poem 💖
Hey, thank you 😊
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