Poems from SageWolfwillow
A feeling, a fluttery
whimsical feeling,
shot through my jaded soul upon the
sight of the mare.
Her crème coat is sliced
and sprinkled...
To be windy or not to be,
That is exsufflicate’s question,
Shakespeare’s random creation
Is the anemometers
Adjective. I wonder what must’...
Candles sit on the ledge, each prosperous flame unique,
Talk, whisper, scream, and dance they do with unrelenting passion.
Each candle...
Abstract black and gray eyes are etched eternally
On the silver band, and purpose surrounds the iridescent stone atop its metal throne,
I...
Chilled pulp dribbles down my chin
And my hands stick together like an
Ankle length dress to my sweat drenched thighs in high humidity,...