A poem I wrote a few weeks ago. I tried to write in an old style. Please do not laugh. If it doesn't come together very well or make a lot of sense, please forgive my strange attempts at poetry.
Why dither in the criss-crossed fens,
Where Gloaming sings on death-webbed paths?
"And the peach-hued dares not tread.",
Quoth I, with trepidation.
"Wherefore dost thou veil thy face?
Quoth Gloaming, with a dusky smile
"For he is coming!"
Kale-shelled upon the waveless sea.
A rueful glisten of a smile, I know,
His eye encircles it lovingly;
The sand-traced timepiece I watch so well
Shadowed, half gone are my eyes,
But filled with the sight that glistens on the edge.
Half-unknown with hawthorne berries, pale shell lies behind.
His temporary smiles slide with the mist,
Shed are the rose-tinted tears of dawn.