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Apr 24, 2010
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A touch of not yet summer
Fry touching ripplesUnder waters edgeLips pursed in gulping breathSinewy slips of silverDisciplined blocks of meandering fearFlinching at shadowed shape atopWhere boatmen danceTo tensioned waters torqueYour song comes to me nowAs clouded sky muffles sunshineMy sun has goneCold grows the spot I sit uponChilled by the not yet summered windIt dapples the waters patternDispersing life belowI arise and goDepth of life and loveWashed past in the waters flow
— seabhac, Apr 24, 2010
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Critiques
Seren
16 years 1 month ago
Dearest Liz
seabhac
16 years 1 month ago
Thanks
xena465
16 years 1 month ago
Beautiful Seabhac
seabhac
16 years 1 month ago
Hi Rosina
Ross Hamilton Hill
16 years 1 month ago
hi there
seabhac
16 years 1 month ago
Hello Ross