Author Richard Rutt The terrace fronts the mountain, the water flows below:Thick flocks of gulls wheel to and fro in the air.Why, oh why, glossy white colt, is your heart set far away? Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments