*****************************
Down by the river in tulgey woods
A thicket of cocoons
There was a spiralling tree
A butterfly nests in the glades
Smoke twists and blinds
Mushrooms rest over his head
Teapots speckled pink and blue
Offer shelter for little wanderers
Time is not on their side
Egocentric fellow
You ask “When is soon?”
She asked “Am I mad?”
The flowers shall be red, not white
The moon grins her grin, hanging up at night
A journey starting with a rabbit
Ending in flames: red white
Swords are made of magic
And madness leads the fight!
*****************************
About the Creator
Essie
Brambling, atypical logorrhoea that really materialise in the form of hatching worms. Or stars.
21
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.