What I love most


What I love most is not but one object;
It is that ethereal ocean's flow;
It is that bright and shining white of snow;
It is that blend of forest, realm o' sprites;
It is that tiny hill, both small and slight;
It is that crescent moon's curve, oh so prime;
it is that song o' birds, oh so sublime;
It is that constellation on vast space;
It is that sound of life, that which, you brace;
Who I love most is truly one subject.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem