Food for thought

Is it the far-off cry of a city street
that howls to the moon in a midnight hour?
Is it the content of my casting vision
that nets and hauls a detailed catch?
Or is it the tonguely echoes
that sour my breath with what’s been said?
Perhaps the sprightly scent of you, my dear,
that beckons me towards your lips
and prays a silent parting,
shall serve the purpose of my muse
and slow the heart departing.

Advertisements

Please leave feedback

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s