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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=365638" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Within Minster Grounds I Tremble</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=365638" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">A thousand dreams are lost it seems as petals in descent <br>Falling to the ground in forgetting of a world chasing golden chariots across an azure sky </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=365638" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">To wonder why <br>To cry <br>To sigh <br>And to try for something greater <br>These are the things the shake our souls <br>And make us equal with our maker. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=365638" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Within Minster grounds I tremble <br>Seeking a knowledge of myself <br>So that I alone may reassemble <br>All that I’ve left lost along my way. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=365638" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Fairies gather here, leading young girls astray from the dance <br>They are the brides of slow decay, Pretty maids, lifeless dolls, <br>Parading cold stares, adorning themselves in the feathers of <br>Innocence when a look within the eye leaves trembling the lover of love. <br>The Willow Man is playing the pipes of midnight melody <br>Hecate, great mother, maiden, crone, grant me the power to rise <br>Grant me the power to stare into the eyes of my gods, my prophecy, my story fulfilled. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=365638" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The moon is quilted by blanket clouds, they are gathering, <br>Soft and slow, small worlds they are gathering, and the <br>Boundaries between plains are shifting. The crossroad awaits, <br>There we are to choose, do we loose ourselves in dreams? <br>Or do we make real all that we feel we could? </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=365638" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The ashtray is overflowing, my bottles empty <br>My mind aflame with ideas arcane <br>Here within my shanty. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=365638" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Still I sit and stare <br>And make as though I was never there <br>Here within my shanty <br>Playing with my hair.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=David+Lacey">David Lacey</a></strong></div>

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