Naps



It's an anomalous thing, perhaps
To rearrange the rooms without a lamp lit
Like an atlas without maps, puzzling a bit
Behind shades that is until, something snaps
One hand claps
The other



Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 477 times
Written on 2018-09-08 at 16:13

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text