Cloister Cove
a reflection on compatibility
It's quiet now, in Cloister Cove,
until the summer showers,
where polished stones are dulcimers,
who ring and sing for hours.
The gentle rain, the softer storms,
play liquid lullabies,
but the Cove can host a tempest
and its strumming, drumming skies.
Peace once wintered in the Cove.
From high, a white dove, down she dove
to rest among the umbral grove,
its mild moss and wild clove.
In mist, serene intoxicant,
Peace had found her darkling pair,
but she knew she'd have to leave him,
else the world would seek her there.
It's quiet now, in Cloister Cove,
but a storm tunes off the coast,
a welcoming distraction from
the Peace the Cove loved most.
About the Creator
Evie Denison
Poetry is the most fun when it is paired with a striking image. Join me in an appreciation of all things unconventionally beautiful, especially in the world of dark academia and storytelling. Instagram: @darkivyevie.
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