Greens of moore

Where in glooms abide
Dungons fortunes found in deadly light
The moores of black and lean
In tracts of scattered pain
Space between star lite schemes

Rain storm clouds
Too many Waters shead
From strange growning mold
A 'Rose' bud head.
It speaks loudly then it said
'From mortal thoughts'
A ray lite cloud drifted oft
Gleemed in glory greens
The dark dawn left the light then comes
Chuckled then, the morning smiled
Strips away those fears day!

poem by Howard Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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