Popular Posts

19 January 2019

When the wind cries "Bloody Mary"!
Beating upon my window panes
With a primordial rage,
And twisting tree tops about,
Like tangled marionettes on a carnival stage..
Oh, how the wolves are born
By the gusts and swooshing walls..
is this vogon poetry?
The air is attacking,
Aloft upon a vorpal sword -
A brief respite,
From its voracious snicker-snack...
A deep doubt
As to safe travels, today...

No comments: