Poem -
Poor Stop
I see a bird or two pilot across gloomy grey skies , she cried a tear here and there with a blusterĀ
The boughs stay silent , but the pale yellow leafs rattle to the wind . My toes kissed the mud , chilled to the bone December poverty.
Bells cried over in great delight , across the vineyards who slept away .Ā
The author spilled a bit of ink , golden hills with a kiss of regalĀ
As if the scene was candy of the eye , it's her who i saw ... tho she wasn't aroundĀ
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā
Support CosmoFunnel.com
You can help support the upkeep of CosmoFunnel.com via PayPal.
