Brume
It delivers itself so very softly,Evokes visions of Blakean spiritsDrifting towards intangible quarters-The transition of the selfTo a heavenly destination, by degrees.A chimera perhaps, a fancy,To some no more realThan fairies and elvesFrolicking in a supple garden,Natural evaporationSuggesting salvation-The salve of immortality-And reassurance of ghostsTo this small house of grief and need.L...