A wee write
Resisting the ardent wind's coaxing pull
As I gaze down at the lemon-lit sea,
Molten dawn supping in its mystery.
Severed flesh pinches the mist, this briny smell,
Welkin punctured by the pondering seagull.
Below brooding white shark roves the gelid swell.
Moment only the Tender shall ever know,
Where these canyons of thought, hurried onward, go.
Poetry by Soup in the Sand
Read 861 times
Written on 2012-06-13 at 18:13
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Canyons of Thought
I meander a scoured, rocky knoll,Resisting the ardent wind's coaxing pull
As I gaze down at the lemon-lit sea,
Molten dawn supping in its mystery.
Severed flesh pinches the mist, this briny smell,
Welkin punctured by the pondering seagull.
Below brooding white shark roves the gelid swell.
Moment only the Tender shall ever know,
Where these canyons of thought, hurried onward, go.
Poetry by Soup in the Sand
Read 861 times
Written on 2012-06-13 at 18:13
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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ken d williams |
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Nathalia |
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Elle |
