Words with a pen
Again and again
Turning around
I don't know the names of the tree's in my backyard. Are they spruce? Or pine? Maples galore? Do they all shed in the autumn? Is this the one where acorns come from? What's a badger? What's a groundhog? Are dandelions all that bad?
By Q.K3 years ago in Poets
But once she woke up, she fell out of a cup, And not soon again would she twirl. For as she forget how to speak, And had trouble twisting her cheeks,
On top a mountain with you, with ease My heart falters at the thought of the end A melancholic end, gently surmising, That the stars would dim by the dusk of eve's song
The music was playing well And the food was quite alright We were surrounded by loved ones And the atmosphere was quite nice
Gently fold along the sheen Sparring with the autumn blue Cupped 'neath the cupboard green Enveloped in a mystic hue Who could foretell such delight