On My Way
May winds blow on my back
And push my sails onward
To shore where lies that shack
With roses on its yard
The home of Lady Love
My angel from above
While plodding down the road, I pray:
That I would pass a wishing well,
Or that black cats would shun my way,
Or that I see those lights that fell,
So I could ask a shooting star
Of guiding me to where you are;
It augurs ill, and seems of prospects bleak,
If on my way, a hearse passes me by,
Or should to pieces, I, a mirror break,
But luck, to find a four-leaf clover lie,
And of ladders I know,
Never to walk on space below.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
Added by Poetry Lover
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